Chemical Potential
by Hidden Treasures
Summary: Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester. Ten x Rose University AU. Part 1 of the Catalysis series.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

 **Notes:** I'm not sure how long this will be, but I'm hoping to write a little bit of it per week and share that week's progress.

* * *

 **Chapter 1:**

Rose shoved the graded exam into her school bag, not caring about crumpling it, before she slung her bag over her shoulder and half-ran out of the lecture hall. The circled red 47% on the exam was still burned into her eyes, making her chest constrict and her stomach bottom out.

47%. Failing. She'd just failed the first exam of the semester, just like she'd failed the first quiz of the semester.

Hot tears stung at her eyes and she blindly pushed past all of the students in the corridor until she reached the ladies' room. There were a few other people in the loo—upperclassmen, it looked like—and they all looked at her sympathetically before she entered one of the stalls and slammed the door shut.

Her head pounded with her anger and frustration. She'd tried so hard— _so hard_ —and it still hadn't been enough. Chemistry simply did not make a lick of sense to her, and she hated herself for signing up for the stupid class in the first place.

But she needed a science credit, and she figured she would get it out of the way before she had progressed through her program and into the more difficult classes. _After all,_ she'd thought, _how difficult could a general chemistry class be?_

Very, it turned out. She wished she could drop the class, but if she did, she no longer had enough credits to be considered a full-time student, and without that status, she would lose all of her financial aid. She couldn't stay at the university without her scholarships. And she was beyond the add/drop period, meaning she couldn't replace her general chemistry class with something else.

So, unless she wanted to completely drop out of school, she was stuck.

Unbidden, her ex-boyfriend's words cropped into her mind, telling her she never should have tried to go to uni in the first place. That she should have stuck to what she was good at (which wasn't school—hence her dropping out when she was seventeen) and not reached above her station. That she should have stayed with him, stayed working in that little London shop, stayed _his_. His trophy that he paraded around when it suited him, and leaving her alone in their tiny one-bedroom flat when it didn't.

She knew she was lucky to be shot of him—the lying, cheating bastard—but maybe she had reached too far. Been too lofty in her goals. Her mother had certainly thought so.

After Rose had moved back home with Jackie when her relationship with Jimmy had utterly imploded, she'd worked at the department store, Henrik's, for three years, saving up her money and finishing her A-levels. When she'd begun applying to universities, she'd applied to a few in the United States on a whim. Her childhood mate had moved there the year before when his job had relocated him, and he loved it.

Rose hadn't told her mother about the American schools she'd applied to, figuring nothing would come of it. But when she'd received not only an acceptance letter but a full academic scholarship to a school in southeastern Pennsylvania, she knew her decision had been made for her.

Jackie had not been as thrilled as Rose. Rose knew her mother wished she would just be happy with her job and settle down to start looking to make a family, but that wasn't what Rose wanted. Even though three years had passed since the Jimmy fiasco, Rose had sworn off relationships until she was happy with where her life was headed.

Rose mostly ignored her mother's diatribe about airs and graces and moving too far away and how Jackie wouldn't be there to bail her out again should everything fall apart. Instead, she'd mailed in her acceptance to the Pennsylvanian university, and had begun the preparations for moving across the Atlantic.

Now, though, as she stifled her sobs into the palms of her hands, Rose thought she may have made a huge mistake by going to a university in America. She hardly knew anybody, apart from the few acquaintances she'd made in her classes. She didn't live in the dormitories on campus, so she didn't even have the typical friendships that came with living in close proximity.

And if she failed out of university, not only would her student visa be revoked, but she wasn't currently able to afford a plane ticket back to the UK, and would be stuck in a foreign country until she saved up enough from her part-time job.

Though her mother frustrated her beyond belief, Rose found herself more homesick than she'd ever been before, and she wished she could teleport to her mum's flat and cry that she regretted leaving home.

She was about to prove everybody right that she wasn't cut out for a life of academia, just because she couldn't pass a bloody general science course.

Rose's eyes ached, but finally her tears stopped. She sniffed hard through her clogged nose and was glad that the girls in the loo had departed by the time Rose finally stepped out of the stall. She didn't need that added embarrassment to her already fragile state of mind.

Her face was a wreck, with her mascara bleeding down her red, blotchy cheeks. Rose turned on the faucet and washed her hands, then cupped cold water in her palms and splashed her face. The water stung her skin, but it made Rose feel a little more invigorated than before.

She spent the next several minutes scrubbing off her ruined makeup and giving her eyes a minute to look less red and puffy. Finally, when she was satisfied that it wasn't overly obvious she'd been crying for the past five minutes, Rose took a deep breath and stepped out of the loo.

Someone was standing just outside the door. A tall, lanky boy with a messy shock of brown hair was leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom. He must be waiting for someone… but the loo had been empty, apart from her. Perhaps she should tell him?

She looked into his face, and furrowed her brow. It was the boy who sat in the row in front of her in her chemistry class.

"Er… hi," he said a little awkwardly. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked up onto his toes, then back onto his heels. "I'm James. James Smith."

Rose's heart squeezed as she recognized his accent: soft Estuary. It reminded her so much of home that she had to clench her teeth to stop more tears from welling into her eyes.

"Hi," she said, her voice a little raspy. "I'm Rose Tyler."

His face lit up into the most beautiful smile she'd ever seen. Sheer delight radiated out of every inch of his face, from the too-wide, too-white flash of teeth, to the way the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled. His eyes sparkled, looking so warm and inviting that Rose desperately wished she had her sketch pad with her. No matter. She tried to commit every shade of brown in his eyes to memory so she could try to draw it later that evening when she got back to her flat.

"You're a Londoner!" he crowed, beaming. Rose felt her own lips twitching in a responding smile as his voice went high and squeaky in excitement. "Oh, brilliant! I haven't met a Londoner yet! I met a woman from France in my French class—though that's cheating, in my opinion. Why can she take French for credit when she's _literally_ French? And I've met loads of people from all over the United States, including someone from Alaska! But you're the first human I've met from the good ole UK! I love it!"

Rose's smile widened and became more genuine the longer James rambled. He made her feel as though they'd known each other for years and were best mates reconnecting after a time apart. The ache of sadness began to fade from her chest and belly, and she wished she could thank him, even if he didn't realize he'd done anything.

"Nice to meet you, Rose!" James yanked his right hand from his pocket and extended it towards her. Rose saw the red crease from where the top of his pocket had pressed into his skin.

"It's nice to meet you, too," she said, wishing she could tell him just how nice it was.

She reached out and took his offered hand. His palm was warm and soft against hers as she wrapped her hand around his.

"Ooh, your hands are cold," he said.

Her cheeks flushed, but before she could withdraw her hand from his grip, his other hand cupped hers, trapping it between his palms. He rubbed her hand vigorously, warming her skin. If it had been any other person, Rose would have been deeply uncomfortable. Hell, she probably _should_ have been deeply uncomfortably anyway. But there was just… there was something about James. Something she couldn't put her finger on that made her feel so safe and at ease with him, despite having met him only two minutes ago.

"Can't neglect the other one."

Rose bit her lip against a laugh as James dropped her right hand to scoop up her left one. He warmed that one, too, then released it. Rose let it fall limply to her side, then looked up at James.

"If you're waiting for someone, I'm afraid the loo was empty 'cept for me," Rose said gently.

James furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side. Then his eyes widened slightly and he said, "Oh! No, thanks, but I, er… I was actually waiting for you."

Rose raised an eyebrow at him, suddenly more suspicious of James than she'd been in the last few minutes. His cheeks went pink and he gave her a shy, sheepish smile as his hand went up to rake through his hair.

Well, at least that answered her question as to whether he'd intentionally styled his hair to look as though he just rolled out of bed. Or as though he'd just had the most fantastic snog of his life.

"Er, you see… I'm in your chemistry class. With Professor Young," he said. His hand moved from his hair to scratch at the back of his head, before he rubbed his fingers against the nape of his neck.

 _Bit twitchy, ain't he? He ought to lay off the caffeine_ , Rose thought to herself.

But instead, she said, "Yeah, I know. You sit in the row in front of me."

His face lit up in a surprised albeit pleased smile. It disappeared slowly until his face was serious again.

"I, er, I couldn't help but notice you seemed a little upset," he said quietly.

Rose pursed her lips, trying to push down her embarrassment. "I'm fine. Exam didn't go as well as I'd hoped, is all."

James nodded, a short jerky bob of his head, and seemed to be entranced with watching the toe of his trainer scuff against the shiny tile floor. It made a sharp squealing sound every time he kicked his foot; the noise grated against Rose's frayed nerves.

"Would you stop that?" she snapped. His body stiffened, and he planted his foot firmly on the floor. Rose sighed and pressed her fingertips into her closed eyes. "Sorry," she murmured. "I'm not in the best mood right now."

"That's all right," he said immediately. They were silent for a few uncomfortable seconds in which Rose debated just running away from him when he asked, "Have you had breakfast?"

Rose snapped her gaze back up to his face. He didn't seem bothered by her rapid changes in mood, and he'd begun rocking on his feet again in lieu of scuffing his Chucks against the floor.

"Well, it's already ten," Rose said. James's cheeks went pink again, much to her amusement. She'd never seen someone blush so easily. "But no, I haven't."

James grinned. "C'mon! Let's go to the dining hall. It's pancake day and they stop serving breakfast at ten-thirty."

He held out his hand for her, wiggling his fingers in invitation, but his face looked solemn and vulnerable, as though he wasn't sure whether she would accept his invitation. Rose wondered what he would do or say if she declined, but a small voice in the back of her mind was confident he would let her go and leave her alone.

But she didn't want to be alone. Not when she finally seemed to make a new friend, one that could maybe relate to her homesickness, and one that made her feel as though everything would always be okay in the world.

"Yeah, all right," she said, and she slapped her palm down into his awaiting hand.

His eyes widened, as though he hadn't really expected her to agree, but his mouth slowly morphed into a wide, manic grin.

"Brilliant!"

He threaded their fingers together. The feel of his hand in hers felt so right, so perfect, and she gave his hand a squeeze of thanks. He giggled from high in his throat and returned the action before he guided her to the door.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed chapter one! I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:** Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

* * *

 **Chapter 2:**

The early October sun shone brightly overhead as they walked towards the center of the sprawling campus, their joined hands swinging loosely between them. The day was cool but steadily warming, and Rose saw several students carrying jackets and sweatshirts over their arms.

"This is one of the most annoying times of year," James said. "The mornings are cold but the afternoons are warm. It's impossible to know how to dress!"

"Layers," Rose answered, unzipping the front of her jacket to reveal the long-sleeve shirt underneath.

"Quite right," he agreed. "I can't wait 'til the trees start to change. It's beautiful."

Rose nodded. The campus had been built into a mountain, and trees lined every walkway. She couldn't wait to take photographs in the height of autumn.

"What year are you?" Rose asked curiously.

"Second year," he replied. "And you?"

"First year," she said.

"Oh, so you must be brand-new to the country and the whole institution of university." When Rose nodded, his voice softened. "How are you adjusting?"

A dull ache radiated through her chest, though not as fierce as it had been when she'd broken down in the loo.

They'd reached the dining hall, and James released her hand to jog a few paces ahead of her to hold open the door for her. The chivalrous act made her smile. Jimmy had never gone out of his way to hold open doors or anything for her.

James's eyes were expectant, and Rose remember he'd asked her a question.

"Oh, you know." She shrugged. "Some days are good, others not so much."

James nodded knowingly, and when they were both inside, he rested his hand at her lower back and guided her to the food court. The touch sent tingles down her spine.

Rose looked around with interest. She very rarely found herself in this building; most days, she packed breakfast and lunch and had no need to purchase a meal. She thought of the banana and baggie of cereal in her backpack, but when she smelled eggs and bacon, her stomach rumbled, and she knew she wasn't in the mood for the breakfast she'd brought.

James grabbed a tray for himself and one for her, then he made a beeline for the pancake station.

"Oh, brilliant!" Rose followed him and saw a giant grin on his face. "Banana pancakes!"

Rose smiled at his enthusiasm and giggled when he stacked six pancakes onto his plate. She was more conservative and only took two, then followed him to scoop eggs and bacon beside her pancakes.

"I'm still not completely used to Americans' love of sweet foods for breakfast," Rose said, watching James completely douse his plate in maple syrup, covering not only the pancakes but also his eggs and bacon.

"Oh, I love it. I've got a bit of a sweet tooth," he admitted sheepishly.

"You don't look like it," Rose blurted, and she cringed.

But James laughed and winked, then moved to the other end of the food court for coffee. Rose followed and got herself a cup of tea.

When they reached the register, James whipped out his student ID card while Rose dug into her backpack for her wallet. James frowned when he saw she'd taken out cash.

"You don't have a meal plan?"

"Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"A meal plan," he repeated. "Everyone who lives on campus is required to have one. And even some people who don't live on campus get a meal plan. Like me. I don't live on campus but I spend so much time here and sometimes I don't feel like bringing my own food. I'm rubbish with having cash on me and I don't like using my credit or debit card for small purchases so it's just easier for me to put dining dollars into my account."

Rose bit her lip to stifle a smirk the longer he rambled on. She met the eye of the clerk at the register and grinned when the woman rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"No, I don't live on campus," Rose explained. "I pack breakfast and lunch most days."

"Then here, let me…" James turned to the cashier and said, "All of this is together."

Heat flooded from the tips of Rose's ears down her neck. "No, you don't have to do that. I can pay for myself."

"I know, but I want to," James answered, his cheeks going pink. "Please? I'd like to. It's not every day I make a new friend."

Rose sincerely doubted that, what with how talkative he was even to a perfect stranger like her.

"Are you sure?" she mumbled.

"Absolutely."

He handed over his ID card to the cashier, and one swipe later, James and Rose walked with their food to the long wall of windows at the back of the room.

"Thank you," Rose said softly, following James to a round table that could comfortably seat six people.

"Anytime. God, I'm _famished_! I usually eat breakfast before class but I accidentally overslept this morning. I thought it was Tuesday, not Wednesday. I've got a totally different alarm for Tuesdays. So I didn't have time to eat."

James sliced his fork through his stack of pancakes and shoveled them into his mouth. His cheeks puffed out comically and his eyes fluttered shut as he let out a soft humming sound of contentment.

"I love pancakes," he sighed through his full mouth.

Rose smiled and took a reasonable bite of her food.

"I've got another class at eleven," James warned. "Calc 3. Do you have another class today?"

"Art of the Renaissance at noon."

James furrowed his brow. "What's your major, anyway?"

"Art and education," she replied. "I want to teach someday, I think. You?"

"That's brilliant. And I'm double-majoring in physics and mechanical engineering." He paused. "What the hell are you doing in general chemistry?"

Rose looked down at her plate and speared her fork through her eggs.

"It was the only science class that fit into my schedule," she muttered. "I didn't think it would be this hard."

"Can you withdraw?" he asked gently.

"Not without dropping below twelve credits," she said bitterly. "I'm here on a full scholarship, and they'll take it away if I'm not a full-time student. So I'm kinda stuck." She huffed out a huge breath and massaged her temples, her earlier anxiety coming back. "I need to keep a 3.0 GPA, and I can't get anything below a C." Tears welled into her eyes as her heart started hammering throughout her whole body. "I'm so fucked, James."

"Hey, hey, hey." His chair scraped across the floor until it was butted up against hers. His thigh pressed into hers and he wrapped his arms wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. She tensed for a minute but then melted into the embrace.

Tears dripped down her cheeks as he hugged her tightly. He nuzzled his cheek into the top of her hair and rubbed his hand up and down her back in long, slow strokes. She buried her face into his chest when she remembered she'd wiped off all of her makeup and wouldn't ruin his shirt. She sniffled, and her lungs filled with the smell of him. Sandalwood and laundry detergent and fresh air. God, he smelled good.

"Easy does it," he murmured.

She let out a shuddering breath, mortification overtaking her. Pulling back from his hug, she grabbed her napkin and blotted her eyes and blew her nose.

"God, I'm sorry," she whispered, pressing her lips into something she hoped looked like a smile.

"Don't be sorry," he said. "It's okay to show emotion. It's okay to cry when stressed. You've had loads to adjust to in such a small space of time."

Rose nodded and mangled her napkin in her fist.

"How did you get here, anyway?" he asked. "To an American university."

"A plane," she teased, a genuine smile finally crossing her face.

James rolled his eyes and snorted. "Smartarse."

She giggled, and said, "I applied to a few universities in America. A mate of mine moved to New York last year with his job and really loves it here. I wanted a fresh start. Moving to a different country seemed like a good way to do that."

He looked at her curiously, obviously wanting more details. She didn't feel like going into her past with him yet, and she waited to see if he would press for more information. She was relieved when he stayed silent.

"How about you?" she asked. "How did you end up here?"

"I've lived in the United States since I was sixteen," he replied. "My Aunt Sarah moves us around a lot for her job. She's a journalist and is always moving to different countries, chasing stories. She moved us to the US six years ago. She's currently in Flint, Michigan doing some reporting. I moved here for school."

Rose desperately wanted to ask what happened to his parents, but he'd given her the courtesy of not asking for more information than what she'd provided. She would do the same.

Instead, she asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two," he answered. "Twenty-three in December. A little older than the typical undergraduate student, but I got a late start. I did a bit of travelling, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. And I honestly still have no idea what I want to do."

They lapsed into an only slightly awkward silence. Rose trailed her fork tines through the leftover syrup on her plate and James finished the food on his.

"Do you want to study together?"

Rose looked up at him when he spoke, but he was very intently adding packets of sugar to his coffee. One… Two… Three… Four… Blimey, five! _He wasn't kidding about the sweet tooth_ , she thought.

"I thought it might be nice, y'know? Chemistry is hard, and next to impossible if you go it alone. I thought maybe we could buddy up and help each other through."

Rose was about to decline. She'd caught a glimpse of his exam score over his shoulder in class that morning—a perfect score. He didn't need her help studying, he just felt sorry for her. She didn't want to burden him, no matter how much help she needed to get her through the class. If it was even _possible_ for her to get through the class with a satisfactory grade.

But it would be so nice to have a friend to hang out with, even if it was just to study. She liked James—a lot—and she found herself wanting to get to know him. He seemed like someone she could become really good friends with.

James had finally looked up from his coffee. His eyes were deep and earnest, and she saw absolutely no hint of reluctance in them like he regretted offering to help her study.

"I'm _really_ bad at chemistry," she warned.

James shrugged. "We'll take it slowly." He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then reached out and covered her hand with his own. His palms were hot from being cradled around his coffee, and the warmth felt nice. "I want to help you if I can, Rose."

Rose bit her lip. What was the worst that could happen? She could agree to study with him and still fail the class and their study sessions would be a complete waste of James's time. But if she studied alone, she was certainly going to fail the class.

So what if she did study with James and still failed? Maybe she'd get a good friend out of the experience.

And what if— _what if_ —she studied with him and passed?

"Okay," she said softly. "Yeah, let's study together."

James's face lit up in a delighted grin, and he gave her fingers a sharp squeeze. "Brilliant! I look forward to it." His eyes drifted behind her shoulder, and his brows lifted. "Bugger. We've been here longer than I thought. I've gotta run."

Rose glanced over her shoulder to the clock on the wall. Ten-fifty-five. Oh, right. He had a class at eleven.

"I'll talk to you later," he promised, standing up from the table.

Rose smirked. "Yeah? And how are you gonna do that?"

"Hmm? Oh! Er…" He fumbled around in his pockets, first the front pockets, then his back pockets, then finally his jacket pocket until he found his phone. Rose took it and typed her contact info into it. When she handed it back, he tapped on the screen and Rose felt her own mobile vibrating. It stopped after a second when James shoved his phone into his back pocket.

"There, now you've got my number," he said. "Right! Goodbye for now, Rose Tyler!"

"Bye, James. Thanks for breakfast. And thanks for… thanks." She trailed off awkwardly, but James's eyes softened in understanding.

"Gotta dash," he said. He turned away and began walking away, and Rose settled in at their table to catch up on some homework before her noontime class. "Hey, Rose?" She looked up to see James had turned back around. "I'm so glad I met you."

Rose beamed at him, feeling her heart skip a beat when he returned the smile.

"Me too," she called out, and she heard a high-pitched giggle before he turned and strode outside.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary:** Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

* * *

 **Chapter 3:**

Rose didn't hear from James at all over the next day and a half, and she wondered if maybe he'd regretted his impulsive decision to a) become her friend and/or b) help her study. She tried not to be too disappointed. After all, they were still practically strangers. He didn't owe her anything.

When she walked into her chemistry class on Friday morning, she debated moving to a different seat to let them both avoid a potentially-awkward situation. But her eyes passed over her usual seat, and she was surprised to see James sitting there.

His face lit up when he saw her, and her stomach coiled with happiness when he frantically waved his arms, gesturing for her to come over.

"Hello Rose Tyler!" he crowed, his voice loud enough to turn the heads of several people. He didn't seem to notice.

"You've moved," she observed, unzipping her jacket and draping it over the back of her chair.

He blinked. "Was I not supposed to? It's not like we have assigned seats or anything."

"Well, maybe not officially," she teased. "But humans tend to be creatures of habit."

"Oh. Er, I can move back to my old seat," he said, sounding a little put-out.

Rose rolled her eyes and bumped her elbow into his. "I'm just messin' with you. Stay."

He grinned, then rooted through his bag for his notebook and a pen while she did the same.

James absently clicked his pen as they waited for the professor to arrive, and Rose observed him out of the corner of her eye. He was slouched in his chair with his long legs splayed out in front of him. Those legs went on for miles, and the tight trousers he wore clung to them like a second skin. Rose couldn't help but rake her eyes up his calves and to his thighs then his hips. She peeked first at his bum but didn't get much of a view, then let gaze skirt to his lap, to his zipper…

Her cheeks flamed as she averted her eyes from the bulge of his crotch. She chastised herself for being incredibly inappropriate.

She forced her gaze away from his lap and instead looked at the pale expanse of his forearms, exposed by his rolled-up jumper sleeves. The muscles and tendons rippled beneath his fair skin as he fiddled with his pen, and Rose watched his long, graceful fingers tap a nonsense rhythm onto the table.

God, he was beautiful. Just her type, too. And he was kind, which made him even more attractive.

Then she remembered what happened the last time she'd gotten involved with a pretty boy who'd showed her a bit of kindness. She didn't want to think that James—sweet, generous, goofy James—was capable of cruelty, but she hadn't thought Jimmy was capable of cruelty either.

A cold band squeezed around her chest, cooling whatever it was she felt for James. The last thing she needed at the moment was a complicated relationship, especially with the boy who wanted to help her pass this godawful chemistry class. Nope. She refused to let herself fall for James Smith. Besides, it's not like he would ever fall for someone like her, anyway.

"All right?"

Rose glanced up and realized she'd been absently staring at his hands. His face was curious, as though he was dying to know what she was thinking. Before he could ask (and not wanting to admit she'd been ogling him), Rose scrambled for something to say.

"How comes you didn't text me?" she finally blurted out.

He straightened up in his seat and turned to face her.

"Why didn't you?" he asked casually.

"I dunno." She shrugged. "Didn't want to seem like I was bothering you, I guess."

"Same here," he admitted, a sheepish grin stealing across his face. "I, er, I realized after we departed that I may have come on a little strongly. And maybe you'd been uncomfortable without me realizing, but you were just being polite. So I thought maybe I should let you make the first move."

Rose gave him a reassuring smile and reached out to cover his arm with her hand. His forearm tensed for a moment before loosening again, and the heat of his skin seemed to burn into her palm.

"You didn't come on too strongly," she promised. "You're a bit eccentric, maybe." She poked her tongue out, grinning at him. "But I thought you seemed genuine and not a complete nutter."

He pouted and said, his voice going a bit high, "Not a _complete_ nutter? So you think I'm a little bit of a nutter?"

Rose pursed her lips and shrugged, then giggled when he looked deeply offended.

"We're all a little mad," she whispered conspiratorially, winking.

Before James could reply, though, the professor strode into the lecture hall and began speaking before she'd even shed her jacket.

The lecture seemed to pass by impossibly quickly with Rose scrambling to write down every little thing the professor said, hoping her brain would somehow retain it all. It was difficult, though, when she seemed to be hyper-aware of the person sitting beside her. Especially when their elbows kept bumping together as she frantically took notes. Warmth seemed to radiate off of him like a giant sun.

"I'll sit on your right side next class," James promised when the class ended. "I didn't realize you were a leftie. Though I should've guessed, considering." He nodded down to her right wrist and the watch she wore there. "Want to do breakfast again? It's not pancake day, but I could murder some sausage."

"I can't," she said regretfully. "I've got a group project in my Shakespeare class next week and we're meeting up in a few minutes."

"Ah, shame," he said. "We'll have to coordinate when to meet up for our first study session. Text me later? Or I'll text you. What's your Shakespeare project? Where are you meeting? I can walk with you."

Rose smiled to herself as she donned her jacket and walked with James towards the library, telling him about their group presentation on the analysis of one of the acts of _The Taming of the Shrew_. He seemed enthralled the entire time and interjected his own fledgling analyses from what he remembered about the play.

"Well, good luck!" he said, reaching out to brush his fingers against her arm. "Laters! Oof, not doing that one again. Toodles? Nah. Buh-bye? Meh, it'll do. Buh-bye, Rose Tyler!"

Rose watched him turn on his heel and make his way towards the dining hall. He moved so gracefully, his long legs letting him nearly float across the ground. She bit her lip as she finally got a view of his bum, and it was just as delicious as she'd thought it would be. She'd always had a weakness for a good smile and a nice bum, and James Smith certainly had both of them.

oOoOo

It took several days before they were both free enough to meet. Rose's job at a nearby grocery store meant she was often busy on the weekends, though she enjoyed the pay of working long hours.

They both agreed to meet up at the school library on Sunday afternoon after Rose's morning work shift.

Rose got there first, and since the library was utterly deserted, she had her pick of tables. She chose an enclosed cubicle that probably acted as a conference room, but it had a wall that was a whiteboard, which she thought might be helpful as they worked through various problems.

After shooting James a quick text telling him where she was, she unloaded all of her chemistry materials onto the oblong table and skimmed through her notes, trying to force her brain to remember names, rules, and equations.

James arrived ten minutes later with his backpack slung over one shoulder, a tote bag over the other, and a portable electric kettle in his hands. There was a heavy clunk when he set the tote on the table.

"I brought tea," he said, plugging in the kettle. He then reached into the tote and took out two large ceramic mugs. "Well, technically I brought hot water." He set one of the mugs in front of her, then pulled out a plastic container. It was full of tea bags and individual packs of cream, sugar, and honey, as well as a smaller secondary container of lemon slices. "There's cocoa mix in there too, if you prefer."

"Oh, you're amazing!"

He preened for a minute before selecting a tea bag for himself.

"Studying means brain food," he said. "And brain beverages. I always have a cuppa when I'm doing homework or the like." He reached further into the tote bag and pulled out Oreos, Pop-Tarts, Goldfish, and a tin of assorted nuts. He ripped open the top flat of the Oreo package and popped one into his mouth, whole. "Help yourself to anything."

When the kettle boiled and beeped, Rose selected a packet of Earl Gray tea and began steeping it while she tentatively took an Oreo for herself.

"You didn't have to go through all this trouble," she said softly, feeling a little overwhelmed by his generosity.

"I'd've brought all of this anyway," he assured.

Her cheeks were warm as she reached into the plastic container for a little container of cream, a packet of honey, and a lemon slice. James watched her attentively, and Rose tried to steady her hands as she ripped open the cream and honey.

There was silence, save for the crunching of Oreos, as they each fixed up their tea. James had elected for English breakfast tea, and Rose watched with amusement as he dumped three packets each of cream and sugar into his beverage.

"D'you want some tea with that?" she teased.

He stuck his tongue out at her and took a tentative sip of the steaming cup.

"I don't like the taste of anything bitter," he admitted. "Never have—it was hell for my parents to give me medicine when I was a kid. But I need the caffeine fix to avoid a massive headache, and I never quite liked the taste of soda. I don't like that fizzy feeling on my tongue."

"Fair enough," Rose said. When they'd both thrown out their sodden tea bags and seemed to be settled, she asked, "So where should we start?"

"Er, well, before we begin… I mean, if you don't mind me asking," James said carefully, "what have your scores on the homework and labs been?"

Rose reached for her folder and sifted through papers until she found her old lab reports and graded homework. "They're better than my exam score. Though literally anything's better than my exam score. Aha! Here."

Rose pulled out four graded lab reports and two homework sets. Her cheeks felt a little warm as she showed them to James; the papers were marked with red pen here and there, correcting the multitude of mistakes she'd made. Some of which she knew she should have caught before she'd turned in the assignments. He must think she was a complete idiot.

But he looked up in excitement when he saw the grades.

"We can definitely work with this!" he enthused. "This is great!

"Enh, they're not that great," she said nonchalantly.

He frowned, but didn't argue further. Instead, he said, "I've got a plan for you that will hopefully make you feel a little less overwhelmed about this class. The plan is this: you need to focus on totally acing all of the collaborative assignments. Lab reports are worth twenty-five percent of the total class grade. Homework is ten percent. So literally thirty-five percent of this class is on assignments where you get to work with other people. If you can manage at least an eighty-five percent average on both your homework and lab grades, it will be much, _much_ easier for you to get a passing grade in the class. Here, look."

James turned away from her and rifled through his bag. He pulled out a thin black case, which he flipped back to display an iPad. After typing in his passcode and opening up a file, he rolled his chair closer to her and set the iPad in front of her.

"I made up an Excel spreadsheet," he said. "It can help you keep track of your grades and pre-calculate your final grade in the class. I've inputted all of the formulas, so all you'll have to do is type in the grades you get on your assignments. I can email this to you, if you want?"

Rose looked up from the Excel spreadsheet. How much time must James have spent putting this together for her?

"Thank you," she whispered, her chest feeling oddly tight. "This is brilliant. Thank you."

James beamed, then pulled his iPad away, tapped on it for a few minutes, then proclaimed, "Sent! Right, shall we start with the homework that's due on Wednesday?"

Together, they worked through the entirety of the problem set as well as the online assignments. When that was finished, they finished that week's lab report. It took hours, but Rose was pleased with their progress. It had taken half the time it would've if she'd worked on it by herself, and while she didn't feel confident in her knowledge of what they'd studied, she no longer felt utterly lost.

"Thank you so much for this," Rose said for what had to be the hundredth time.

"No probs." James shoved his notebooks and folders into his backpack, then took her used, empty tea mug. He stacked it inside of his own, then placed them in his tote bag. That task finished, he turned around to face her and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "I was wondering… The university is sponsoring a bus trip next Saturday. To Philadelphia. Well, I say sponsoring, but there is a nominal fee. Five dollars. But that completely covers transportation to and from Philly. Have you been to the city yet? It's beautiful. There are loads of museums and galleries and historical sites. I was planning to go, but it'd be nice to have a friend to go with. Would you maybe like to go with me?"

Rose ran through her schedule in her head, and her heart fell when she remembered she was supposed to work. But a day trip to Philadelphia with James sounded fun.

"I'm scheduled to work that day," she said, frowning. James bobbed his head in an understanding nod. His shoulders hunched inward and she very much wanted to give him a hug. He seemed to be the touchy-feely type, so he would probably appreciate the gesture, but Rose wasn't quite sure what to make of the swooping sensation that settled low into her belly whenever they touched. So instead, she fiddled with the bit of dry skin around the cuticles of her thumbs and said, "But that trip sounds like a lot of fun. I'll see if I can switch with someone."

His face became hopeful, and her stomach fluttered in response. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "No promises, though. I'll let you know when I find out."

Rose texted her supervisor as soon as she got home, and was relieved when she let her have the day off.

She rushed to tell James the good news.

 _Oh, brilliant!_ he replied mere seconds later. _Tickets are on sale in the student center 'til Tuesday. Make sure you sign up in time._

After their chemistry lecture on Monday morning, Rose left James to go sign up for the Philadelphia trip. Five minutes and five dollars later, she received a confirmation email about her name being added to the list of students going on the trip.

With a smile, she sent James a text. "I'm officially signed up for the Philly trip!"

 _Woohoo! Wanna be bus buddies?_

Rose rolled her eyes. "Of course."

 _Brilliant! It's a date!_

 _Wait, no, that's not what I meant!_

 _Not that it'd be a bad thing to go on a date with you!_

 _I just meant like a friend-date! As mates._

 _Ooh, a mate-date!_

 _I love a good rhyme!_

Rose giggled at her phone and the frantic back to back messages. Her mind's eye easily showed her how flustered James probably looked.

"No worries," she typed. "I know what you meant." She then typed the winking kiss emoji, but paused with her thumb hovering over the send button. That was flirtatious. Far too flirtatious. While Rose loved their banter that seemed to border the line of flirtation, she wasn't sure if James did. Sometimes he seemed to, but his previous texts seemed to indicate otherwise as he'd backtracked as quickly as he could to assure her it wasn't a date.

Though she told herself it was for the best that she and James only be friends, her heart fell low into her belly. Ignoring the sensation, Rose deleted the winking kiss emoji and replaced it with a thumbs up before hitting 'send'.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary:** Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

* * *

 **Chapter 4:**

The morning of the Philadelphia trip dawned before the sun was even up as Rose awoke early to pack a lunch and snacks, then catch the town bus to make it in time to the university by eight. She was fifteen minutes early and bleary-eyed as she waited for James and the other students going on the trip.

She began to get worried as the time drew nearer to eight but he still hadn't arrived. She'd already been joined by a dozen other people and made idle, sleepy chit-chat with them before going back to keeping a lookout for him. Right as everyone was beginning to make their way onto the charter bus, Rose heard him call out her name.

With a grin, she let the people behind her board the bus.

"Not at all cutting it close, are you?" she asked, bumping her shoulder into his.

"Pfft, it's seven fifty-nine," he said will a roll of his eyes. "I'm perfectly on time, thank you very much. Early, in fact. Come on, let's get seats."

He reached out and threaded their fingers together even though the bus doors were ten feet away. He gave her fingers a slight squeeze then dropped her hand to check his name off the list. When she followed suit, they meandered down the center aisle and sat down on cushy seats near the middle of the bus.

The drive to Philadelphia passed by uneventfully, and Rose kept her gaze directed out the window as she watched the Pennsylvanian landscape fly by. She was captivated by the vast amounts of empty, rolling hills and farmland that stretched between the small towns they passed through. There was so much green everywhere she looked.

Even as they drove into Philly, Rose was amazed by how small the city seemed, especially when compared to the sprawling bustle of London.

"So, do you have any ideas of where you'd like to go or what you wanna do today?" James asked when they'd exited the bus.

He raised his arms above his head and leaned back, stretching from their hour-and-a-half-long bus ride. His sweatshirt rode up his slim hips, and Rose got a peek of a thin sliver of skin between the waistband of his jeans and his shirt. Her gaze fell upon the dark, downy hair near his navel, and her cheeks flamed as she directed her attention away.

"Er, I made a list of ideas," she answered, tugging her phone out of the pocket of her jacket. She sucked in a sharp breath when James pressed himself into her back to peer over her shoulder at her list. She was a little embarrassed that most of her list was comprised of free sights and attractions; those that did cost money, she'd listed the price beside each location. If James noticed, he didn't say anything.

"Let's do tours of the historical sites first thing this morning," he suggested. "Those tend to get more populated as the day goes on. Then we can hit some of the museums. Sound good?"

"Well, what about you?" she asked. "Do you have anything you want to see?"

"Your list actually contains a few places I've never been," James said. "Philadelphia museum of art. Penn museum. Though if it's all right with you, I'd love to visit the Eastern State Penitentiary. I've never been yet. A few of my mates have tried to drag me to the haunted _Terror Behind the Walls_ exhibit they do at this time of year, but I hate spooky places and jump scares."

James let out a dramatic shudder that scrunched up his face. It was endearing, and Rose bit her lip around a giggle.

"Okay, lead the way," she said. "Take me out on the town, James Smith."

His cheeks flushed a little red, but his smile was wide as he threaded his arm through hers and dragged her towards the historic district.

Rose found herself utterly enthralled in the history of the city, and she knew part of it was having James as her own personal tour guide. He knew everything, it seemed, and he often gave her the history of the various sites, monuments, and structures as they came across them. Never mind the fact that there were employees offering up the same information.

"Philadelphia was actually the capital of the United States for about a decade there at the beginning," James told her as they toured Independence Hall. "Whilst Washington, D.C. was being built. Actually, several cities have had the honor of being the capital, if even for a day, like good ol' Lancaster."

Rose started.

"Oh, not the Lancaster of the UK," James said, chuckling. "Nah, there's a tiny little county about, ooh… sixty or seventy miles west of here called Lancaster. It's a quaint little place. Huge Amish population—a religious group that migrated to America after a schism between Swiss and German Anabaptists. We'll have to make a day trip some Saturday. Loads of homemade goods are sold there. Amish furniture is beautiful. Ooh, let's take a selfie!"

They took photos together at all of the sites they visited. Rose's stomach warmed every time James wrapped his arm around her and tugged her snugly into his side before he snapped their picture.

"Can you send me some of those?" Rose finally asked after their fifth photo together.

"Absolutely. I'll put them on Facebook. That might be easiest rather than me sending you a million texts with the photos. D'you have Facebook?"

Rose bobbed her head in affirmation, and James pulled out his phone, tapped on the screen, then said with a grin, "Friend request sent!"

They finished their tours of the historic sites by eleven, and so they decided to check off one of the museums before they broke for lunch. As they walked through the city to get to the art museum, they encountered a large group of people passing out flyers.

James politely took the info packets; Rose realized the group was endorsing the Hillary Clinton campaign.

"Do you think Donald Trump actually stands a chance in the election?" Rose asked curiously

"God, I hope not," James said, shoving the flyers deep into his pockets. "Back home, the UK certainly dodged a bullet by voting to stay a member of the EU. Hopefully America can dodge this bullet, too. I pray my fellow Americans make the wise decision and vote in a competent leader rather than the buffoon the Republican party has selected as their candidate."

"Are you an American citizen?" Rose asked, surprised.

He nodded, the motion sending his fringe into his eyes. He brushed it back as he said, "Yup. Aunt Sarah knew she'd be in America for a long time and wanted to be politically active, so when we moved here, we both filed for citizenship. I hold dual citizenship for the UK and the US."

They'd arrived at the art museum, and James held open the front door for Rose before following her inside. After they paid for admission and took a cursory glance at the map, they strode hand-in-hand through the museum.

Rose was utterly enthralled, and she hoped James was enjoying himself as much as she was. She knew a science museum would probably have been his preference, and while she appreciated that he'd come with her, she couldn't help but feel that she'd monopolized the trip with her interests. Especially since he'd been the person to tell her about the trip in the first place.

They spent nearly two hours at the museum of art, visiting every single exhibit, and by the time they left, Rose's stomach was aching with hunger.

"I'm famished," James said, patting his flat belly. "For lunch, you have _got_ to try an authentic Philly cheesesteak. Come on!" He grabbed her hand and made to tug her down the city block.

"Er, I actually brought my own lunch," Rose said sheepishly, tugging him to a halt.

"You can't come to Philadelphia and _not_ get a cheesesteak," he protested.

Rose sighed and clenched her jaw as she forced herself to look up at him. "James, I'm on a budget. I've allotted fifty dollars for this whole day. I'd rather spend that money on museums and stuff."

"It can be my treat," he said immediately.

"I don't need charity," she snapped.

He shook his head and said, "It's not charity. It's one mate taking another mate to lunch. Since you packed a lunch and didn't plan for the expense of buying a meal, it's only fair and logical that I treat you."

"No, it's fine. I can eat the food I brought."

"Oh, come on. I seriously don't mind—"

Rose ground her teeth together, her temper flaring, before she finally hissed, "What don't you understand about 'no'?"

He recoiled as though she'd hit him. His jaw hung open, flabbergasted, and his mouth moved for a few silent seconds but no words came out.

Rose wanted to scream. She'd been having such a lovely day with him; it was the lightest she'd felt in a very long time, and she didn't want anything to change. Praying that he would be a bloke that knew how to accept 'no' for an answer, she folded her arms across her front and tried to ignore the roaring of her heart in her ears.

"You're right," he finally said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Rose nodded, but she let out a huge, relieved breath even though something in her chest cracked at the sadness in his voice. He hung his head and scuffed his trainers against the ground, and she found herself wanting to explain. It was obvious he came from a well-off family, but he needed to understand that she didn't, and that it didn't give him the right to buy his way into getting his way.

"My mum and I grew up poor," Rose muttered. "Like… council estate poor. Government assistance programs poor. My mum… she wasn't above taking advantage of the free or reduced cost of things. And she sometimes used me to help her agenda of why she needed or deserved a discount for something, appealing to the humanity and generosity of others because she had a small daughter to care for. And I hated that. I hated it. Since I could, I've been paying my own way for things, and if I couldn't afford it, I simply went without. I refuse to become my mother."

James's eyes were soft as his lips pursed in sympathy. But it didn't feel like pity, for which Rose was grateful.

"I'm sorry," he said again. After a beat, he added, "My mum and dad were generous people. Raised me to be generous, too. To help out when I could. Same with my Aunt Sarah. It's a natural response for me, y'know, to offer to pay for things. Especially if it's my idea. I don't intend for it to be charity, or something that I use to place another person in my debt. I just want to dote on the people I— my friends."

His cheeks pinkened, but he kept her gaze. His face was earnest, and she couldn't help but believe him. He was so different from other men she'd had dealings with, especially Jimmy, who would always drop mentions of how much money he'd spent on her.

At his explanation, the question that had been burning through her brain for the past couple weeks finally took hold of her. "Can I ask—?" But Rose cut herself off, knowing it was a personal question, and if James had wanted to talk about it, he would've shared on his own terms. "Never mind."

James's gaze was knowing, if not a little resigned, as he said, "It's okay. You can ask."

"No, it's not my business," Rose said firmly, not wanting him to feel obligated to tell her anything he wasn't comfortably sharing.

He nodded, looking a little relieved. So when he spoke again, Rose was surprised and humbled by his candor.

"My parents died," he said, his voice quiet and somber. "Our house caught fire. I was thirteen."

Her heart throbbed, and she stepped closer to him to take his hand. But that felt woefully inadequate, so she wrapped her arms around his waist. Her mind was a mess of sorrow and sympathy, but among it all was the utterly absurd realization that this was the first hug she'd initiated with James. She liked it. She liked being close to him and touching him, either holding his hand, hugging him, or simply sitting so close that their shoulders and thighs brushed together. She felt completely at ease around him, as though she could truly be herself and not worry about being ridiculed or self-conscious.

Somehow, though she'd only known this boy for a couple weeks, he'd already woven himself so deeply into her very being and had become an integral and important part of her life. That realization both scared her and comforted her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "Were you in the house? Wait, sorry. You don't have to talk about it."

"Yeah. My dad got me out, then went inside to help my mum, who was trying to get our stupid bloody dogs to get outside. Then the fire hit the gas line. Instant explosion. I was deaf for two days. I've still got a bit of ringing in my ears that the doctors say will never fade." James let out a shrug that was too stiff to be nonchalant. "I went to live with my Aunt Sarah after that."

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"Me too."

They stood in silence for a few minutes, just holding each other. Rose rubbed her cheek into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt and breathed in the smell of him, letting it calm her and erase her earlier irritation with him. His heartbeat echoed beneath her ear; the rhythm was hypnotic.

"I kinda killed the mood," she said regretfully, tilting her head up to look at him.

"Maybe a little," James said, but a small smile had crossed his lips. "But I sorta did too by being a prat." He gave her a squeeze before dropping his arms from around her. "I didn't pack myself a lunch. Do you mind if I get a cheesesteak?"

"Nah, I figured I'd make you starve while I ate my sandwich in front of you."

"Smartarse."

He twined their fingers together and tugged her down the street to find lunch. He'd offered one last time to buy her something, but acquiesced graciously when she turned him down again.

Though as they sat down to eat, he'd pushed half of the sandwich towards her.

"At least try a small bite?" he asked through a mouthful of food.

Rose sighed but picked up the hot cheesesteak and took a bite. The juices from the meat burst across her tongue, mixing with the flavors of melted cheese and fresh, homemade bread. While it was good, she wasn't entirely sure why James had made such a huge fuss.

After their meal, James hailed them an Uber to begin their various tours of the museums. It was the most fun Rose had had in a long time, and the giddiness she felt was so reminiscent of the first few months of her relationship with Jimmy.

Not wanting to think about him, Rose focused instead on the bloke beside her as they toured the creepy but fascinating Eastern State Penitentiary. The architecture was beautiful, as each wing of the prison jutted out from the center like spokes of a wheel. Though they were listening to an audio tour of the prison, she had to frequently pause the program as James started on his own commentary.

They ended the day with a photo by the prison gates, bathed in the orange light of the setting sun. An elderly woman had offered to take the picture, and James eagerly handed over his phone. Rose snuggled deep into his side as she wrapped her arm around his narrow middle. James held her just as close, and she grinned at the camera feeling so totally, perfectly happy.

Content though she was, Rose was exhausted when they'd caught up with the rest of the university students that evening for the bus ride home. Her feet were sore from walking, and she was hungry again.

She plopped down into her seat and groaned as her aching feet were relieved from duty for the next hour and a half. She then dug through her bag for the container of pretzels she'd packed.

"Want some?" she asked, holding them out towards James.

He nodded and for a few minutes, they crunched their snack in silence. When she'd put the empty container back and settled in for the ride home, James asked, "Did you have a nice time?" His voice was uncharacteristically timid.

"Yeah, I did." She turned her head to face him. "Thank you for telling me about this trip. And suggesting I come. And spending the day with me."

He smiled at her, then leaned further into his seat. Rose stifled a yawn and tilted her head back, closing her eyes to rest them for a minute. The deep rumble of the bus's engine and the rhythmic rocking as they sped down the highway lulled her into further relaxation.

She didn't realize she'd fallen asleep until she jolted awake sometime later. The bus was dark, except for the glow of phones as her fellow students entertained themselves. Her cheek was pressed into fabric that smelled achingly familiar, and she squeaked when she realized she'd been using James's shoulder as a pillow.

"Sorry," she mumbled, sitting up straight.

"No worries," he said. "You can keep napping if you'd like. Though we're only about fifteen minutes out from the school."

Rose yawned and arched her back in a seated stretch, groaning when she felt the base of her spine pop.

She was still slightly drowsy when they pulled into the university, and she dreaded the bus ride home. She wished she could teleport back to her flat.

"Can I walk you to your car?" James asked when they'd clambered off the bus.

"I don't have one," Rose said. "I take the bus."

James frowned. "Let me drive you home, then? It's late and you're exhausted."

Rose was about to immediately protest, but in truth, she _was_ exhausted. Standing up seemed to take all of her energy, and God only knew when the next bus would arrive.

Yawning, she agreed and followed him to a sleek blue sedan. James grabbed her elbow when she made to walk around the car and said, "We're in America, remember?"

Rose blinked, then realized she'd been about to walk to the driver's seat. James held open the car door, and once she was situated with her seatbelt on, he moved to his own side of the vehicle.

After he'd programmed her address into his phone's GPS, they passed the drive in relative silence, both too tired to make much conversation. But the silence wasn't awkward, thankfully, and Rose found herself clenching her hands into fists to keep from reaching over and threading her fingers through the hand that sat limply on his thigh as he drove. It was one thing to hold hands as they explored a foreign city together; it was another thing entirely to hold hands in the closeness of a dark car.

Rose shivered with the imagined intimacy, her brain unhelpfully supplying her with memories of how it would feel if she plucked up the courage to take his hand. His fingers would move automatically, slipping through hers until their palms were pressed tightly together. His skin would be warm and soft except for the writing callus on his middle finger. His thumb would absently stroke the back of hers, making her feel so loved—

Rose halted those thoughts dead in their tracks and backpedaled as fast as she could. What was she even thinking? James was her _friend_! Admittedly, he felt like one of her best friends, as though she'd known him her whole life rather than two weeks. But still! They were _just friends_.

Rose was relieved when James pulled up in front of her apartment building ten minutes later. It wasn't much to look at: an old building with peeling paint and wooden steps that probably were on the fringe of passing safety inspections. But it was relatively cheap, and she lived by herself.

She was vaguely aware that James had unbuckled his seatbelt, and before she could protest, he leaped out of his car and jogged around to her side. After she stood, he rested his hand at the small of her back and guided her to the front steps.

 _Oh, God, does he want to come in?_

Before she could panic, James said, "I'll see you on Monday. I— I had a really nice day today, Rose."

"Me too," she said through a dry mouth.

He gave her a small smile, and he paused for the briefest of seconds before he shoved his hands into his pockets and skipped down the stairs to his car.

Her heart hammered against her ribs and she spun back around to him.

"Hey, James?"

He whirled around to face her, an unreadable expression on his face.

What was she even going to say? _I think I'm a little bit smitten with you…_ Rose scoffed at herself. But James was waiting expectantly, and finally she said lamely, "Let me know when you've made it home safely."

It must have been a trick of the shadows, but Rose was sure she saw his face fall slightly. However, when she blinked, the expression was gone and he was smiling.

"Will do. Nighty night, Rose."

"Night."

She waited on the front porch until he'd gotten back into his car and drove away. She then turned and headed inside, bounding up half a dozen flights of stairs to reach the top floor.

Her apartment was dark and cold when she entered, and a pang of loneliness rippled through her. She pushed it down and instead tugged off her jacket and haphazardly tossed her handbag onto the table then moved down the hall.

She rushed through a shower to wash of the grime of wandering through a city all day, and by the time she crawled into bed, James had texted her.

 _Made it home, safe and sound!_

"Glad to hear," she replied. "I'm off to bed. Gotta work in the morning. Night!"

 _Nighty night. Sleep tight._

But try as she might, Rose couldn't fall asleep. She lay in her dark bedroom, trying to clear her mind and breathe slowly and deeply, but thoughts of James kept creeping back. The way his hand felt in hers, the way his lanky body fit perfectly against hers, the way his whole face lit up when he smiled… All of that was burned into her brain.

With a groan, Rose rolled over and punched her pillow into a better position to support her neck.

 _Stupid James bloody Smith. Stupid, stupid Rose!_

It was a long night, with Rose drifting between sleeping and wakefulness. She was almost glad when her alarm sounded at six the next morning, because at least she was released from her purgatory.

After snoozing her alarm, Rose stayed snuggled under her blankets for a few minutes to check her phone. She skimmed her email—mostly junk—then browsed Instagram, Snapchat, Tumblr, then Facebook, where she had a few notifications.

 _Friend request from James Smith._ She accepted it, then moved to the notifications telling her James Smith had tagged her in thirty-seven photos. But before she could take a look at any, her alarm blared at her once more, forcing her out of bed.

Thanking her past self for showering the night before, she pulled on jeans, her work polo, and her comfiest pair of shoes before sprinting outside and to the bus stop, where she'd had to wait only a minute before boarding the nearly-empty bus.

Once she was settled in a seat, she pulled her phone out again to take a look at the photos James had uploaded. The first half of the album was cheesy, touristy photos of Philadelphia, of the various museums, monuments, and landmarks. But then came the photos they'd taken together.

Her breath caught in her throat as she perused them. They'd started off stiffly, with each of them standing a casual distance apart. Then they'd draped their arms around each other's waists. By the time Rose reached the selfies they'd taken towards the end of the day, they'd been wrapped around each other. She'd leaned into his chest; he'd rested his cheek against her head. They looked like friends who'd known each other for decades. Or a couple…

Rose frantically tried to derail that thought. No good would ever come of it. It didn't matter that her heart swelled several sizes too big whenever she looked at James. It didn't matter that he sent butterflies soaring through her stomach whenever he smiled. It didn't matter that her skin sparked with electricity whenever they touched.

She'd never felt like this about anyone before. Though she'd loved Jimmy—or at least she'd _thought_ she'd loved him—what she'd felt for Jimmy seemed to be a drop in the ocean now.

How had this happened? She'd known James for all of two weeks! How was she already so hopelessly, completely, inexorably in love with him?

It didn't matter how hard she'd tried to shove that thought away, the truth of it resounded through her with a finality that terrified her. She was in love with James Smith.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary:** Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

* * *

 **Chapter 5:**

 _She was in love with James Smith._

That daunting realization infiltrated her every thought for the rest of the day. Rose was surprised her manager didn't yell at her for being so distant during her work shift, though she was moved from the register to the produce section after she'd nearly forgotten to accept a customer's cash and was about to let them leave without paying for their fifty-dollars' worth of food.

Cursing to herself, Rose tried to shove all thoughts of James bloody Smith out of her head so he wouldn't be the reason she lost her decently-paying job, the job she desperately needed. But no matter what, he kept cropping back into her thoughts. The way his hand felt in hers. The way his hair stuck out at all angles because he couldn't seem to stop running his fingers through it. (How _she_ wanted to run her fingers through it.) The way he wore trousers that were far too tight but gave a delicious view of his legs and bum…

"Dammit," Rose hissed as she realized she'd been stocking various types of apples all in the same crate.

Her coworker watched her with some amusement and mercifully came over to help her sift through the mess she'd made of the apple display.

It was a relief to clock off and go home for the night.

It was not a relief, however, to go to school in the morning.

She waited nervously in their chem lecture for James to arrive, wondering how the hell she was going to keep her head once he'd plonked down beside her. Once he smiled his beautiful smile at her. Once his soothing voice told her all about what he'd gotten up to on Sunday. Once his delicious smell pervaded her senses…

But as the professor strode into the lecture hall and began speaking, there was no sign of James. Rose didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed, but soon she didn't have time to be either of them as she took page after page of notes on the lecture of quantum mechanics.

The fifty-minute lecture flew by, and when the professor released them for the day, Rose was worried that James hadn't shown up. She grabbed her phone to text him, but saw a text from him instead.

 _I caught some sort of bug. Won't be in today._

"Oh no," Rose typed, adding the frowny emoji. "Get well soon!"

She then chewed her lip and typed, "I missed you in class." She sent that text before she could overthink it, then she shoved her phone deep into her jacket as though that would alleviate any embarrassment that might come when she inevitably regretted that text message.

She made her way to the library, where she would be content to spend the next two hours. She didn't have much homework, so while a tiny voice chastised her for not using the free time to study, Rose perused the fiction section for a book to read to pass the time. It had been ages since she'd read for fun.

She got lost in the novel, barely pulling back to reality in time for her noontime class. She hastily checked out the book so she could finish it later, then she jogged across campus and snuck into the classroom just as her Art of the Renaissance professor began speaking.

Rose had forgotten all about her text to James until she got home that night and grabbed her phone to input a project deadline into her calendar app.

Two messages were waiting for her. The first had been sent promptly in reply to her own. _I missed being in class too. You're a great table mate._

The next was time-stamped thirty minutes ago. _I've got the bloody flu._ He'd sent a series of emojis, ranging from the angry cursing face to the crying face to the sick face. _I probably won't be in for the rest of the week._

Her heart clenched, not only in sympathy for him, but more selfishly that she wouldn't see him at all until next Monday.

"That sounds awful," she replied. "I hope you feel better soon. Drink lots of fluids. Stay hydrated. Get some rest."

He replied instantly.

 _I napped all afternoon and still feel exhausted. My body hurts. Breathing hurts. Existing hurts._

"Not at all dramatic, are you?"

 _Have you no pity for the dying?_

Rose burst into giggles.

"I highly doubt you're dying," she said. "But if you are, I promise I'll give an excellent eulogy at your funeral."

 _What a comfort._

 _How was class?_

"You picked a hell of a week to get the flu," she said. "It's the quantum chapter."

 _Crap. I'm sorry._

"Why the hell are you apologizing?"

 _This is a complicated unit and I'm not gonna be there this week to study with you._

"I had meant that it's a complicated chapter for YOU to miss out on," she said. "Though I appreciate your selflessness and chivalry in thinking about me."

The little dots that indicated he was typing a reply popped up. Then disappeared. Then popped up again.

After a few minutes, he finally said, _Oh, I'm a very quick learner. I'll bet I could already teach this stuff._

Rose rolled her eyes. "Forget what I said about being selfless and chivalrous. You're quite egotistical and arrogant. Not sure how your neck is strong enough to support your inflated head."

James sent back the crying with laughter face. Then he said, _In all seriousness though. If you need help, or want help, you can give me a call. Or text me. Or we can video chat. Though perhaps not today or even tomorrow. I'm quite exhausted._

"Don't you worry about me," she replied. "Focus on getting better. I'll be fine."

 _Okay. The offer still stands though._

 _But I'm about to pass out again. I'll text you later. 'Til then, Rose Tyler._

"Sleep well."

oOoOo

While Rose was disappointed about James's absence, she thought maybe it was a small blessing. It gave her a week to get over the ridiculous notion that she was in love with James, and to figure out how to force her brain to think of him as her friend.

She hoped that the longer she went without seeing him in person, the more her nerves would settle back to what they'd been before their trip to Philadelphia.

But she didn't take into account their texts.

They spoke daily, and their conversations were rife with teasing banter that most certainly skated the line of flirting at least 99% of the time. Rose found herself looking forward to their nightly chats and was impatient to see him in person again.

The weekend finally arrived, and that Saturday, James texted, _So I'm feeling loads better, and I'm not contagious anymore. Wanna meet up tomorrow and work on stuff? I'm going stir crazy sitting around my home._

"Sure," she said, her heart thudding with the anticipation of seeing him. "I get off work at noon. Wanna meet in the library at twelve-thirty?"

 _Sounds good._

Rose was impatient for the rest of the weekend to go by, and when Sunday dawned, she packed her school stuff to take into work with her.

But she'd forgotten to bring more than her breakfast bagel, and by the time she'd clocked out and caught the bus to the university, she was starving.

James was waiting in the same study cubicle they always used, and she was disappointed that he hadn't brought his usual hoard of snacks.

His face lit up when he saw her, and he jumped up from his chair. His face was a tad pale and gaunt, and he'd definitely lost a bit of weight, making his lanky frame look bonier than usual. But his eyes were bright and dancing as he skipped towards her, arms flung open.

She raised her arms just in time for him to crash into her. She clung to his shoulders as he lifted her up off her feet in a crushing hug.

"Oof," she grunted when he gave her a tight squeeze. But it felt nice, so she returned the squeeze and buried her nose into the collar of his shirt. His scent filled her lungs, making her feel so at home.

"I missed you," he crowed into her ear before setting her on her feet. "Feels like I haven't seen you in years!"

"We texted every day," she reminded him, but cursed herself when his smile slipped. She grinned at him, then bumped her hip against his. "But I missed you, too. Chemistry lecture was very lonely. I nearly moved seats to find a new table mate."

"Rose Tyler!" His voice went high in indignation. "Am I that replaceable?"

"'Course you are," she drawled. At his pout, she gave him a wink. "Oh, you know you're my favorite table mate."

His cheeks pinkened.

"So," she said quickly, "chemistry."

He bobbed his head in a nod. "Chemistry. Shall we get to it?"

Rose plopped down in the seat beside him, and together, they poured over the homework sets that were due the next day.

It took nearly an hour to finish, and by the time they were done, Rose's stomach was growling and gurgling nonstop. James had either not heard it, or pretended to not hear it. But as they slipped their finished homework into their respective folders, he said, "Y'know, I'm kind of starving. For something that isn't soup. Wanna go grab lunch somewhere?"

"Yes please," Rose said immediately. "I barely even ate breakfast this morning."

"Where shall we go?" James mused as he unceremoniously stuffed his school things into his backpack. "Ooh! Wawa!"

Rose blinked. "What-what?"

James laughed. "Wawa. It's a sort of fast-food place. You'll see. Come on."

He took her hand and threaded their fingers together as he guided her out of the library. They walked hand-in-hand across campus to the lot where he'd parked his car. She settled into the vehicle and let him drive her to whatever a Wawa was.

It was a petrol station.

Rose frowned at him, but he explained, "Food's inside."

James led her into the store front and to the kiosks where several customers were tapping away on the computer screen. They waited their turn, and when they stepped up to the computer, James said, "Just select whatever you want to order. They'll make it, and call your number. Simple."

He was quick with his order—he'd obviously been here before and had a favorite—but she slowly examined all the options, before building herself a chicken Caesar wrap. Rose had to admit the convenience of it was nice; she could pick out exactly what she wanted, all without even socializing with another human being.

"An introvert's dream," Rose said as they waited for their food.

"Indeed. I'll have to take you to Sheetz sometime," he said. "It's very much like a Wawa. Both are specific to the east coast of the US, and they've got a bit of a rivalry going on among the locals as to which is better."

"Which do you prefer?" Rose asked.

"I, unlike the majority of people, have no preference," he said. "It's all a bit ridiculous, in my opinion, but it can be entertaining to see people get up in arms about it."

They got their lunch and headed back to the university to continue studying in preparation for the exam in three weeks.

oOoOo

The next three weeks passed in a blur. Somehow, it seemed all of her professors wanted to give their exams at the same time, and Rose frantically tried to balance all of her schoolwork on top of itself.

James was a saint, and happily worked around her schedule. When she asked if he needed any time to himself to study for his own exams, he replied simply, "I'll study for my other classes on the days you study for yours."

Weekends became their days to hole up in the library together and work on chemistry. Rose asked her boss for at least the afternoons off until this latest round of exams was over, and she was relieved that her boss obliged without a fuss.

The weekend before the second chemistry exam, Rose's brain felt like mush. She'd had three other exams that week, and all she wanted to do was unplug from school. But she couldn't, not without feeling guilty that she wasn't working as hard as she should be.

 _It's not healthy to over-work yourself_ , James had texted when she told him how she felt. _If you want to take this weekend to recharge your batteries before the exam on Monday, that's completely fine, Rose._

"I would if I was confident about the exam. But I don't. I don't know what to do. My brain is screaming at me that I'm unprepared, but it's also screaming at me that I'm exhausted. Help."

 _Maybe take Saturday to yourself?_ he suggested. _Then we'll bear down on Sunday?_

"I need as much help as I can get. This exam MUST go better than the first one did."

 _It will_ , he replied soothingly.

Rose huffed out a sigh and dug the heels of her palms into her tired eyes.

They did indeed meet up both days that weekend as Rose tried to cram as much information as she possible could into her strained brain. When she got home on Sunday night, she was exhausted and a little dejected. She still wasn't confident in her knowledge of the material that would be on the exam.

But nevertheless, she went to bed early to get as much sleep as she could, and she made sure to eat a good breakfast before catching the bus into school.

The lecture hall was already packed when she got there, full of frantic students flipping through their notes. She tried to ignore them, lest their antics give her more anxiety than she already had, and she instead plopped into the chair beside James. He was slouched in his seat, his long legs stretched out in front of him, as he absently flipped his pencil end over end.

"Ready?" he asked when she'd pulled out her own pencil and a calculator.

"I've got no other option, do I?" she replied, her heart beginning to race with panic.

"It'll be fine," he said soothingly. "We've worked so hard at this. It'll be fine. Just stay calm and work immediately on the problems you know how to do. Save the ones you're uncertain with 'til last."

He continued his pep talk, and Rose tried to let the sound and cadence of his voice relax her as it usually did. But nothing he said helped, and soon her hands were trembling and her breakfast was a hard rock in her belly.

The professor strode into the lecture hall and barked at everyone to put their notes and phones away.

"And if I hear anybody's phone go off during the test, they automatically get ten points knocked from their score," she warned, scanning her eyes across everyone in the room.

Rose double checked that her phone was completely off before stuffing it into a pocket of her backpack.

When everyone was settled, the professor passed out the exams. James rested his hand on her thigh, and Rose nearly jumped out of her seat at the contact. His palm was warm through her jeans, and his thumb idly stroked her leg.

 _What the hell?_

"Good luck, Rose," he murmured out of the corner of his mouth, right as the professor told them to begin. He gave her leg a squeeze, then took his hand back to open the first page of his test.

 _Stupid bloody fucking James!_

Rose took a deep breath to calm her racing thoughts as she forced her mind to focus on chemistry and the problems on the pages in front of her rather than how it had felt to have James's hand on her thigh.

The sounds of pens and pencils scratching against paper filled the room, and Rose once more took a calming breath before she began to read her test.

The time went by in a blur of numbers and chemicals and panic. She was barely aware of James when he stood up out of his chair to hand in his exam after only a half hour.

 _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit._

Rose was near tears when the professor called out that there were five minutes left, but she still had several blank pages. She blinked them away and began writing the first things that came to her mind when she read the problems.

It was both a mercy and an agony when the professor ordered them to turn in the exams. On one hand, she was done. On the other, she didn't think it had gone well. But there was nothing she could do about it now.

Her hand and back were aching as she walked out of the lecture hall and towards the doors.

"Oi, you were just gonna leave me here?!"

She squeaked when a familiar hand wrapped around her bicep.

"James! I thought you would've left by now. You finished ages ago."

"Yeah, but I wanted to wait for you. So what did you think?"

She shrugged and hummed noncommittally, but said, "If it's all right, I'd rather not talk about it."

"That's fair." He beamed. "We're finished!" He opened up his arms for a hug, and it was second nature to her by now to lean into his chest. "No matter what, it's finished, so you can stop worrying."

"Well, at least for another month 'til exam three hits."

"Don't be such a downer," he said, poking her ribs. "Now what? My next class was cancelled so I'm free for the rest of the day."

Rose thumbed behind herself to her backpack as she said, "I brought my camera. I'd planned on taking some photos of campus to help me relax from this ordeal. Wanna come with me?"

He nodded eagerly, and she linked her arm through his and walked outside. The frigid November air bit at her nose, making it sting and burn. It was a gorgeous day, otherwise. The sky was a deep, clear blue with no clouds in sight, and despite it being the beginning of November, there were still quite a few colorful leaves on the trees. They shimmered like glittering jewels in the late morning sun.

Rose breathed in deeply, inhaling the fragrance of autumn.

"This is my favorite season," James said from beside her.

"Mine too. Everything's beautiful. Spring is my next favorite, because everything's so colorful and fresh." She paused for a moment, then asked, "Does this area get much snow in the winter time? London rarely got anything more than an occasional dusting."

"It all depends," James said. "Last year, we got a huge blizzard at the end of January. But the year before that, we hardly got anything. Winter is fickle around here. But yeah, there are usually a few snow or ice storms. I'm sure that'll be pretty to photograph."

"I can't wait," she said. She guided him to one of the abstract statues on the edge of the walkway, and rested her backpack on the base of the statue. She rifled through her bag and gently lifted out her camera.

"Wow, that's a beauty!"

Pride shot through Rose as she slipped the strap around her neck.

"This was a gift to myself," she said. "When I finished my A-levels. It's the most money I'd ever spend on myself." She turned the camera on, and when she fiddled with a few settings, she pointed it towards James. "Smile."

He grinned, and her heart clenched at the sheer joy on his face as she froze that expression in time.

Pleased with the photo, she turned around and took a photo of a wooden bench, its paint peeling from age.

"Let's get higher up the mountain," James said. "There's a perfect view from the physics building."

Their hike up the campus was slow as Rose snapped photos of anything that snagged her artistic interest. Some photos were crap, and she would delete those later, but she was pleased with other ones.

James was more than happy to model for her, and even when he wasn't striking a pose, she managed to get a few candid shots of him. Those were her favorite, when she caught him unawares. She loved capturing his essence as he gestured wildly with his arms, deep in a rattling explanation of something. As his tall, lithe body moved fluidly as he walked. As the chill air frosted in front of his lips whenever he breathed. As the sun sent flares of red and gold through his rich brown hair.

She fell a little more in love with him as she photographed everything that made him James.

Thankfully, he seemed to be utterly unaware.

"Look at that, Rose Tyler!"

They'd made it to the physics building, an old stone building that looked more like a castle than an academic building. She ignored the view in favor of photographing the beautiful architecture.

But when she turned around, her lungs hitched. The view was perfect. The university sprawled before them, and beyond it was the sleepy little city it was nestled within. The buildings shone in the brilliant sunshine, and all around, trees were shot through with reds and yellows and browns.

"Not bad, eh?" James said smugly.

"I suppose it's all right." But her tone fell short of indifference at the sheer awe she felt in this moment. She turned to him and smiled. "Thank you for bringing me up here. Even if my thighs are killing me."

"Imagine hiking this path every day," he said with an exaggerated shudder.

Rose turned away from him to snap a few photos of the view. Then she played with a few settings, and said, "Can I take a photo of you?"

"You haven't asked to take any of the other billion photographs you've been snapping of me."

So he had noticed. _Oops._

She just shrugged and backed away a few steps to get the best angle for the shot.

oOoOo

That night, Rose was inordinately pleased with all of the photographs she'd taken of campus. She'd moved everything to her laptop, and was sprawled on her sofa in her pajamas as she sifted through the ones she wanted to keep and edit.

She found herself staring at the photos of James more than she probably should have. But she couldn't help herself. He was beautiful, and he really made for a wonderful photography model. His entire being was so expressive, from the way he held his body to his multitude of facial expressions.

Just as she was saving her work for the night, her phone buzzed. James.

 _So… I had a thought._

Rose smirked at her phone, and waited for him to continue. But after five minutes and still nothing, she asked, "And are you going to share this thought or were you just making a generic statement that you do, indeed, think?"

 _Smartarse._

 _So we just took an exam._

 _(Which I'm sure you nailed, btw.)_

 _And we've been working so hard that I thought we should take some time to relax. Not put too much time into studying as much._

Rose's stomach sank. Was he trying to tell her he wanted a break from her? Had she become too clingy and desperate? Oh, God, did he realize she was head over heels in love with him and he was deeply uncomfortable with her blatant flirtation?

She didn't know what to text, because her brain was empty except for the crushing mortification and sadness.

A minute later her phone dinged.

 _Tomorrow's election day. And I have a little tradition for election nights._

 _I order pizza and drink wine and play some sort of game whilst watching the results._

The band around her chest slowly eased, and Rose waited to see if he was actually implying what she thought he was implying.

 _So, Rose Tyler… how would you like to have a sleepover?_

A sleepover? A sleepover. Oh. Oh!

Her cheeks warmed.

 _We could crash at my house and gorge ourselves on pizza and… hang out._

Rose stared at the little ellipses in front of 'hang out'. Was that supposed to be a euphemism?

God, she wished she were in the same room as him to get any clues at all about his intentions from his body language. Was he all cocky smiles and wiggling eyebrows, or was he stuttering over his words and red-faced as he made a mess of his hair? Did he mean for them to simply hang out, or to… _hang out_ and have a _sleepover_?

Rose didn't think James would be the kind of bloke to ask her to come over for a mindless fuck, but…

 _Only if you want to, of course. I've got a spare bedroom you can crash in. But if you're not comfortable spending the night with me, I totally get it. I could drive you home after the results. Or we could hang out at your place and I'll leave after the results are over._

 _Oh, blimey! Or you don't even have to say yes! I'm sure you've got loads of other assignments to catch up on. If you wanted a quiet night to yourself that is totally 100000% okie dokie just let me know._

Rose giggled at her daft James. Of course he wasn't asking for a one-night stand. Ever the gentlemen. She was ashamed that a tiny piece of her brain even considered the notion that James would ask for such a thing.

Now, about his offer. What did he mean by it? Was this something special? Like a date?

Or was she simply reading too much into this, and it was just James being James, asking her to hang out as friends.

 _A mate-date_ , she remembered fondly.

She had to admit, it would be nice to relax with James without the stress of chemistry. Even if she wished it was an actual date-date instead of a mate-date, she couldn't say no to spending time with the boy who had inexplicably become one of her closest friends.

"Pizza and hanging out with my best mate?" Rose typed, her chest warming with anticipation. "Sounds like a great night to me."

His reply came immediately in the form of five grinning emojis.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary:** Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

* * *

 **Chapter 6:**

Rose was looking forward to her sleepover with James all day. All of her classes seemed to drag by, impatient as she was for it to be four o'clock, the time James said he would meet her at the library.

Finally, hurrying to the library after her final class of the day ended, Rose spotted James's figure slouched in a cushy chair near the front doors of the library, an open newspaper in front of him. She took a minute to admire him and the graceful curve of his body as he sat sideways in the chair with his legs slung over the armrest.

He hadn't spotted her yet, so she snuck up behind him and breathed into his ear, "Guess who?"

He yelped far louder than was appropriate for a library, earning them both a sharp glare from the librarian on duty.

James sprang up from the seat, nearly tripping over his feet in the process. His cheeks were bright red, and Rose felt a little bad for startling him so badly.

"Rose!" he exclaimed, breathless. "Hi!"

"Hi," she giggled. "Ready to go?"

"Yup, let me just…" He hastily folded up the newspaper, not even following the creases, before he shoved it into his bag.

"You performed your civic duty, I see," she noted, spying the tiny "I Voted!" sticker on his jumper.

"Yep! Got to the polls right as they opened this morning. I'm glad, because rumor has it the lines are impossibly long now."

He slung his bag over his shoulder, then touched her wrist briefly before he let his hands drop to his sides. It was an automatic response for Rose to thread their fingers together as they made their way outside.

"Isn't it supposed to be cold by now?" Rose asked as they walked into the late afternoon sunshine and the unseasonable warmth. Across campus, some students were in t-shirts and shorts, or were carrying around jackets that had become unnecessary as the temperatures approached sixty.

"Well… climate change, y'know. The Earth is dying."

"Very cheerful," she muttered, reaching over to pinch his ribs.

He squirmed out of the touch, but didn't relinquish her hand as they walked to his car.

James remembered the way to her apartment, and fifteen minutes later, he'd pulled up in front of her building.

"D'you… want to come up?" Rose asked awkwardly. "I might be a few minutes. I'm an idiot and didn't pack an overnight bag yet."

"You're not an idiot," he said softly, and while she'd meant it offhand, a piece of her heart fluttered at his immediate protest. "But sure. I'll come up."

He turned off his car and exited. He dug through his pockets for a quarter that he fed into the parking meter.

"Will fifteen minutes be long enough?" he asked, glancing at her.

She nodded, then guided him into her building and up the flights of stairs to her floor.

"It's a bit small," she said apologetically when she unlocked her front door. "But make yourself at home."

She was all too aware of James's roaming gaze as he drank in her flat. It was small, even for one person. Thankfully she didn't have much stuff, so it wasn't cluttered. There was a loveseat sofa and a dining table in the living room, but the table was so covered with her art supplies that she often ate her meals standing over the kitchen counter.

"Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge," she said as she made a beeline for her bedroom.

She pulled out a bag and stuffed a change of clothes and pajamas into it, then she moved to the bathroom. Her makeup was spread all across the countertop, and she collected them into her makeup bag, which she stuffed on top of her clothes. She then grabbed her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, which she rolled into a towel. All of that she placed into her pack as well.

After making sure she had everything she would need for staying overnight somewhere, she joined James in the living room. He was towering over her table, and Rose was mortified to see him looking at the various pages of sketches littered across the surface. She knew there were several portraits of him among the pages.

He jumped when he heard her approaching, and his cheeks flamed red.

"I- I'm sorry," he squeaked. "It was all right out there in the open. I didn't mean to snoop. I just… You're very good, Rose. They're beautiful."

Her sharp rebuke about invading her privacy died on her tongue. She knew he hadn't meant anything by it, and if she hadn't wanted anybody to see, she should've put them away. After all, it wasn't as though she was unused to sharing her artwork; but she _was_ unused to her artistic muse seeing the final results.

"Thanks," she mumbled, accepting his compliment.

She decided not to draw any more attention to her drawings, on the off chance he somehow hadn't seen the ones she'd done of him. Instead, she moved to the fridge for the unopened bottle of wine that had been there since her first week in the flat.

James frowned.

"How the hell…? The drinking age in America is twenty-one," he blurted. "How did you even buy that?"

Rose raised an eyebrow at him, then said slowly, "Because I _am_ twenty-one?"

He blinked. "What?" His voice went high, and he coughed to clear it.

"Yeah. I turned twenty-one last April," she said. "I took a few years off school before deciding to try uni."

James nodded, and his throat bobbed. "Good. That's… good."

Rose cocked her head. "Why's that good?"

His cheeks burned redder and he stammered for a moment before saying, "Well, I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble here on foreign soil is all."

A lame excuse, and certainly not what he'd meant, but Rose didn't push it.

"Shall we?" she said.

He nodded and reached for the wine, then guided her back to his car.

He drove them to the outskirts of town, to a small residential development. Quaint brick houses lined the streets, and a twinge of jealousy flared through Rose. But she pushed it down when she considered where James had gotten the money to afford a house: he'd probably inherited any money his parents had when they died.

"Home sweet home," he said, pulling into the driveway of one of the smaller houses in the development. "Oh! Er… are you allergic to cats? I completely forgot."

Rose shook her head. "I had a few cats when I was growing up."

He looked relieved. "Great."

She followed him into his house, and was immediately greeted by the happy, screaming meows of a black and gray tabby.

"This one's Pippin," he said, bending down to scratch the cat's chin. "He's a love bug. If he gets too annoying, I'll shut him in my room."

Pippin purred loudly, then turned to Rose and rubbed himself against her calves and feet.

A few moments later, a brown and tan tabby padded over to them. He wasn't quite as affectionate as Pippin, but he sniffed Rose curiously then bumped his head into her shin before trotting back in the direction he came from.

"That one was Merry," James said.

Rose stifled a grin. "Are Frodo and Sam in hiding?"

James giggled, looking pleased that she understood the reference.

"They live with my Aunt Sarah," he said, toeing off his shoes by the front door. Rose followed suit, and was amused to see his socks had chemical structures printed all across them.

She followed James down the hall and to the kitchen, where Merry and Pippin were circling two of three empty bowls.

"Watch out for Gollum," James warned. "He doesn't take kindly to strangers. Or even to me, honestly. He's a grumpy old man. I should've let him drown in the storm drain honestly. But I felt too sorry for the bastard."

Rose turned at a growling meow, and saw a Siamese cat slinking further into his box on the cat tree.

"That whole tree is his," James said, shaking his head. "He won't let Merry or Pippin on it. I had to get them their own tree. And Gollum will sometimes even take over that one, the little shit."

She watched James move around his kitchen, filling the three bowls with food. He gave Merry and Pippin each a full body stroke before letting them eat their dinner in peace.

"I'll show you where you can put your stuff," he said, beckoning with a tilt of his head before he strode down the hall.

He guided her to the first door on the right and stepped into the room. There was a large bookshelf completely covered with books, as well as a long bay window with cushions that looked like the perfect place to curl up for a few hours to read. Judging by the distinct scent of James that lingered in the room, she suspected he spent a lot of time reading here.

Against the opposite wall was a full-size bed.

"My aunt stays in this room when she comes to visit," James said. "I put fresh sheets on. The loo is directly across the hall. And my bedroom is at the very end of the hall, should you need anything in the middle of the night."

"Thank you," Rose said, setting her bag onto the bed. "Your house is lovely."

He smiled a little awkwardly, as though realizing the very different lifestyles they lived.

"Ready for pizza? Results probably won't start coming in for another couple of hours. But we can put an order in a while and maybe play something? Do you like board games? Or we could play a card game? Whatever you want."

Rose's stomach flip-flopped, suddenly nervous that she was alone with James in his home, and that she would be spending the night here. Not nervous for her safety—never that—but nervous about the implications of it all. Did it mean the same thing to James as it did to her? What did it even mean to her? Was this just two mates hanging out together? Or was it… more?

"I'm fine with anything," Rose said. "And yeah, let's order the food now."

James nodded, and together they walked back to the kitchen. Pippin had already finished his food, and was slinking closer to the cat tree and the full food bowl there.

"Oi, you know better," James warned. "Do you want to get gutted?"

Pippin continued towards the food bowl though, and just when he was about to snitch a piece, Gollum let out a hiss and jumped on top of him.

"Stupid cat," James grumbled.

Pippin rolled out from underneath Gollum, and trotted towards James, meowing rather pathetically. When James paid him no mind, he turned to Rose and rubbed against her calves.

"Does he like being picked up?" she asked.

"Mhm, oh yeah. I told you, he's a total attention whore."

Rose laughed, then she reached down to scoop the cat into her arms. He nuzzled close to her chest and purred loudly.

"Don't let that mean ol' kitty boss you around," she cooed. "You're an absolute sweetheart. Aren't you such a beautiful boy?"

"Toppings?" James asked as he held his mobile to his ear.

"Cheese is fine," Rose said.

He gave her a thumbs-up, then started speaking into the phone, placing an order for a large cheese pizza, a medium supreme pizza, an order of fries, mozzarella sticks, and two dozen chicken wings.

"It'll get delivered in an hour," he said, sliding his phone into his pocket.

"Are more people coming?" she asked. At his frown, she said, "You ordered a hell of a lot of food."

The tips of his ears went pink.

"Er, well, I like a variety. And I'm starved. I haven't eaten since breakfast." He shrugged. "And in any case, I'll have leftovers for dinner for the rest of the week. Mind if I open the wine?"

"That's why I brought it," she teased.

He stuck out his tongue, then rummaged through a drawer for a few noisy seconds before procuring a corkscrew.

"So," James began as he worked on uncorking the wine bottle. "You're twenty-one? What did you do between finishing up school and coming to uni?"

Rose nuzzled her nose into the soft fur of Pippin's forehead, then bent down to set him on the floor. "It's a long story."

"Oh. Right, yeah, you don't have to talk about it," he said softly.

Rose nearly took the out he gave her. But he'd entrusted her with his grief and heartbreak over losing his family. Not that she felt she had to reciprocate and spill her own personal misfortunes, but he made her want to share with him. He made her want to give him every piece of herself, both the light and dark parts of her.

And maybe she was naive to have this much trust in someone she'd only known for a month, but maybe, just maybe, James was worth it.

"I left school when I was sixteen, after I finished my GCSE exams," Rose said. James paused for just a moment, but then he continued working at the cork. "I was okay at school, in the subjects that interested me at least. But I was young and stupid and fell head-over-heels in love with my boyfriend." James's hands spasmed, and he dropped the corkscrew. "Jimmy. He was my first serious boyfriend. He was a year older than me and in a band. The band was decent enough, I suppose. They had a bunch of local gigs and had a self-made album out.

"Anyway, I thought he was the one." Rose shrugged, her heart aching at how carefree those early days with Jimmy were. "He seemed to love me as much as I loved him. I didn't hesitate when he asked me to move into a flat with him. It was a small flat, just one bedroom, but it was just the two of us, and it was _ours_ , so it felt perfect.

"And we were happy. We really, really were. I'd quit school to help out with the bills, and I honestly didn't mind it. School bored me, and I felt a lot better about myself to have a job and get paid and help out with the rent. My job wasn't exciting—just working in a clothes shop—but it paid well, and I had steady hours.

"Jimmy's band had been doing well, too. They'd gotten seen by some producer, and long story short, they were asked to sign a contract for their first real studio-produced album. Of course, all the guys jumped on board. I was so proud of them.

"But they began pulling long hours at the studio. Which was fine. They were busy. But there'd be weeks when I saw Jimmy for only an hour or two." Rose's voice died as she remembered the nights she'd go to bed alone, only to be woken up a few hours later by Jimmy's wandering hands and lips. Sometimes she enjoyed their midnight romps, but other times, she wished he would let her sleep. She'd yelled at him the morning after that first night he'd ignored her wishes to keep sleeping. He'd yelled right back, eventually storming off. He'd called her a few hours later, apologizing and begging her to forgive him, promising that he wouldn't do it again.

James was looking at her curiously, but without an ounce of pity. She could've kissed him for that kindness. He'd finished with the cork, which lay in a few mangled pieces on the counter, but his attention was fixed on her.

"We sort of… grew apart," Rose said softly, skipping over the details of her deteriorating relationship. Living through them had hurt enough; she had no desire to recall them to memory if she could help it. "I was getting restless. I made decent money at my job, but I knew I didn't want to be folding clothes for the rest of my life. But Jimmy… well, he thought I should be happy with what we had. And that I wouldn't need to work once the album was finished, because he was gonna be a famous rock star." Rose snorted and shook her head. "We got into it over me not wanting to be a trophy girl for him to parade around like a prize. And how I wanted to have a _partner_ in a relationship. I didn't want to be dependent on someone."

Jimmy hadn't taken well to that statement. He'd sneered at her that she was damn lucky to have what she did, and any other girl would be grateful to be in her shoes. But if she wasn't happy, she could damn well leave and see how far she could get in life on her own.

That had been one of the cruelest thing Jimmy had said to her.

"Good for you," James murmured.

Rose sighed. "Thanks. Jimmy didn't think so, though."

"He sounds like a bit of a wanker. Er, no offense."

Rose snorted out a laugh despite the crack in her chest. "He kinda was. But I still hadn't realized. I was still in love with him, and blind to anything he said or did. I figured he was stressed because of the album he was making." She shrugged. "Anyways, he stopped coming home at a reasonable hour, and there'd be days when I didn't see him. He and his band would go off partying with other up-and-coming musicians. He started drinking. A lot. His half of the rent went to booze and God knows whatever else. I made good money, but not enough to cover the full rent. We got into huge rows about it, but he always said we'd be fine when the album came out.

"This had been going on for a few months. We'd been together for over a year—which to me, seemed like forever. It was proof that he was _the one_ and we'd grow old together and get our happy ending. I figured we were going through a bit of a rough patch, but everything would be fine when the record came out.

"Well, the album was released, and it was a local hit, but that was it." Rose smiled wryly. "No fame and fortune for Jimmy Stone. But he still partied like a rock star, still spent all our rent money, and still stayed out ungodly late. He was never home on the weekends. And one day, he just never came back."

Rose's eyes burned as she remembered the helplessness of sitting around the flat, waiting for word from Jimmy. She didn't know if he was performing in a nearby city, or dead in a ditch. Her calls and texts had gone largely unanswered.

"After two weeks, he called me to say he was moving in with this other girl." Rose shook her head and rolled her eyes. "He'd been seeing her on the side for months. They were in love, apparently."

Devastation pulled at James's face. "Rose, I'm…"

She shrugged. "I was left with almost six-months back rent, and all the current utility payments. I called my mum, told her what happened, and asked if I could move home. And that was that. I released the flat, chatted with the landlady to explain the situation, and got myself on a payment plan to pay off the debt. She was really, really sweet about it.

"Mum was nice enough to not charge me anything when I first moved back. I chipped in with groceries when I could, but most of my pay went to the rent. I sent Jimmy a courtesy text, telling him I let go of the flat and to pick up his stuff, but other than that, I wanted nothing more to do with him.

"I worked for a year, then got restless, and went back for my A-levels. It took a bit longer than it should've but I was working as often as I could. I'd paid all my debts, but was utterly broke. I saved up all the money I could to pad my bank account and chip in with my mum's bills. When my A-levels were finished, I started entertaining the idea of going to uni. Mum thought I should keep working. I had a good job, made good money, and if I stuck it out for a few more years, she thought I could probably get promoted through the shop.

"But I'd told Mum I didn't want to work in a shop my whole life. Which she took offense to," Rose added, pursing her lips at the remembered argument with her mother. "She worked in a shop her whole life, and she didn't know why I didn't think it was good enough. I said I wanted something different with my life. She still doesn't really understand.

"I applied to universities, hoping to get some financial aid. I'd built up my bank account and didn't want to deplete it, if I could help it. And this uni gave me the best offer, and I'd always wanted to see America, so here I am."

Rose's cheeks burned at exactly how much she divulged. Hearing the story aloud, listening to the way Jimmy had treated her… She was mortified and ashamed. What must James think of her? He probably thought she was the most naive, ridiculous girl who was an idiot to stay with someone who had treated her so awfully. Even her mother had been full of ' _I told you so_ 's when Rose had moved home.

But James… James was looking at her with the softest expression on his face. There was no judgement. No pity. Nothing but acceptance and sympathy.

God above, she loved him for that. For being here and letting her talk, and not sneering at her for her past mistakes.

He took a step towards her and opened his arms to enfold her in a hug. She went gladly and wrapped her arms around his waist, burrowing her nose into the fresh scent of his sweatshirt.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I'm sorry Jimmy was a wanker. But you should be proud of yourself, Rose. So proud. Look at what you've done, eh? Look at what you're doing. You pulled yourself out of a shit situation, and made a better life for yourself. You're amazing, Rose Tyler."

Rose smiled into his chest, and felt her eyes prickling at the warmth of his words and the utter conviction in his voice.

"Thanks for listening," she whispered.

"Thank you for trusting me with your story," he countered, giving her a tight squeeze. She could've sworn she felt his lips press against the top of her head, but it was too gentle and quick of a motion. Perhaps it had merely been a bump of his chin.

He released her and smiled softly down at her.

"Wine time?" he asked, jutting his chin to the bottle.

They took the wine to the living room, where a stack of board games and a deck of cards sat on the coffee table.

As they waited for their dinner, they played a few rounds of War.

When the food arrived, James scooped up Merry and Pippin and shut them away in his bedroom.

"They're obnoxious around food," he explained. "They'd be walking all over it, and Pippin would eat half of it, no matter if it made him sick for days. I sprinkled some catnip on their beds, so they should be stoned for the rest of the night."

Rose chuckled and shook her head at him. He sat down on the floor with his back to the sofa, prompting her to sit beside him as he opened up all the bags and boxes of food.

"What do I owe you?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied. "I would've ordered this much food even if it was only meself tonight."

Rose nodded. "Thank you for dinner."

As they dug into the vast amounts of food, James flipped on a news station and taught her a few of his favorite board games.

Rose had never really played board games before, but she found she thoroughly enjoyed it. He introduced her to Risk, Settlers of Catan, and Pandemic, explaining to her his bastardized rules for two people versus the real rules when more players joined in the fun.

"I had game nights with my mum and dad every Friday," James told her out of the blue when he moved his playing piece across the Pandemic board. "We would stay up 'til almost midnight, sometimes playing one game for hours, and other times hopping between a few different games. After they died… I refused to play with my Aunt Sarah. It wasn't the same with two people, y'know. And- and it _hurt_.

"But then one night, I'd gone to the kitchen and Sarah was playing Solitaire at the table by herself, and she asked if I wanted to play Rummy. Being the sulky fourteen-year-old I was, I grumbled for a few minutes, but eventually gave in. We only played one round, but it was the first time I'd played something in the five months I'd been living with her. We slowly made our own tradition of playing games. Not Friday nights, though. But special occasions, usually. Holidays, nights I couldn't sleep—" James tilted his head to the TV, where news anchors were debating the odds of Clinton versus Trump winning the election— "election nights. It became a once-in-a-while thing for me and my aunt."

Rose swallowed though the lump in her throat. Not knowing what to say, she just shifted closer to where he sat on the floor and rested her palm on his thigh. She felt his leg muscles tense, but before she could retract her hand, his covered hers and he said, "S'your turn."

Even though it made eating and playing their game a bit harder, she kept her fingers twined with his.

As the night wore on and results started coming in, they called game night quits and instead moved to the sofa, where they continued laying into the wine. The bottle was nearly finished, and Rose's face was hot as she got tipsier.

"How is it still too close to call?" James screeched at the TV. "How has Hillary not completely swept up all of the votes?"

"It's only nine o'clock," Rose said soothingly. "The entire west coast hasn't closed their polls yet."

"Hmm, true. California alone can probably steal this election for Hillary," he mused. He reached out for the wine bottle and frowned when he saw it was empty. "Did we spill some?"

Rose giggled. "Nope. We drank the whole thing."

"So that's why the room is all wibbly-wobbly."

"Wibbly-wobbly? Is that a technical term?"

"Oh, definitely," he said, setting the bottle back on the coffee table. "I think I should switch to water now, though."

"Yeah, you're a bit wine-drunk."

"Wine-drunk?!" he spluttered. "I am not!"

"Yeah you are," she countered, sticking her tongue out at him.

He blew a raspberry back at her, then shuffled to the kitchen. When he came back, it was with a platter of biscuits and two glasses of water balanced in his hands.

"Found come chocolate chip cookies in my freezer," he said, passing her a glass. He then carefully plopped back onto the sofa and set the plate of biscuits onto the table before them.

Rose grabbed one and nibbled slowly. They lapsed into an easy silence as they watched the news. She could feel the tension coming off of James as the time grew later and things were still too close to call.

"What if he actually wins?" James murmured quietly, frowning at the television.

Rose shrugged, not knowing what to say. Instead, she scooted nearer to him under the guise of wanting to grab the blanket that was draped behind him.

"Oh, sorry, is it too cold in here?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm fine," she said. "A blanket will be enough. D'you need it too?"

His mouth worked for a moment, before he nodded slowly. Perhaps it was the alcohol giving her a boost of courage, but she pressed herself into James's thigh and threw the blanket over their laps. His body was warm beside hers, and it took every ounce of strength to resist resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arm around his waist.

Instead, she mangled the blanket in her fingers and sat perfectly still as they watched the news anchor.

After a few minutes, when it was clear that James wasn't uncomfortable with their close proximity, Rose let her muscles relax bit by bit. She no longer flinched away when their legs brushed against each other, and she stopped caring if she was half-nuzzled into his side.

Her heart thudded hollowly in her chest as she committed the feel of this moment to memory. She remembered when she and Jimmy would cuddle on the couch. Wrapping herself around the person she loved, leaving no space between their bodies, had been one of the best feelings in the world.

It felt even better to be pressed up to James. The smell and feel of him soothed her and left her aching for more.

She glanced up at him through her lashes—he was utterly entranced by the TV and had shoved half a biscuit into his mouth, making his cheeks bulge out. She watched his jaw work as he chewed, then the way his throat bobbed and flexed as he swallowed. He swiped his tongue across his lips and at the corners of his mouth, getting any lingering crumbs, and his bottom lip shined so invitingly. God, she'd never wanted to kiss him more than she did in this moment.

And really, what was the worst that could happen?

 _He could freak out and get upset or angry and I could ruin the closest friendship I've ever had and never see him again and as a result utterly fail chemistry and get kicked out of uni and have to move all the way back to London where I'm sure to never ever see or hear from him for the rest of my life._

Rose deflated at the tiny voice in her mind. Right. Of course. _Stupid Rose_. James was her _friend_. He was her friend who was helping her study for a class so she didn't fail out of uni. That was it. That was all they could be.

Something deep in her chest cracked, cleaving an ache that left her cold and empty.

She let out a soft sigh and returned her attention to the TV rather than the beautiful boy sitting beside her.

Another hour passed, and as the clock neared midnight, the television finally heralded good news.

"Thank God!" James crowed when Hillary Clinton surpassed the necessary 270 electoral votes. "Blimey, there's no reason this election should've been this close."

Rose beamed, weak with relief at the outcome.

"Oh, Trump's sure to go on a Twitter tantrum," James chuckled. "Wanna see?"

He was already reaching for his mobile, and after tapping a few buttons, he leaned into Rose's side and held the phone out in front of them. There were a series of Tweets proclaiming all sorts of awkward things about "Crooked Hillary" and "voter fraud" and general insults of the nation as a whole, specifically Democrats.

"What an arse," Rose said, rolling her eyes. "Thank God that man-child isn't going to be in charge of a nation."

"Thank God indeed. Hopefully there are no universes where that imbecile got elected." James scrunched up his face in an expression of disgust, but Rose cocked her head at him.

"No universes?"

"Have you heard of the theory of parallel universes?" he asked.

"No, but I'm pretty sure the name sort of implies what they are," she teased, poking her tongue out as she grinned. He pouted, and she couldn't contain her laughter. "Oh, all right. Tell me about parallel universes."

James sniffed, but quickly got over his feigned offense.

"It's the idea that there are an infinite number of worlds all stacked around each other, and that every decision we make branches off a new parallel world where maybe we made a different decision. Like maybe rather than eating a burger for dinner one night, you had the salad, but it was contaminated with _E. coli_ and you had to go to the hospital, where you then met a someone who you befriended then fell in love with, and you go on to get married and have kids and you grow old together." Rose marveled that he was able to say so many words all in one breath. "Well, there would be a parallel you who ate that burger instead of the salad and you didn't get sick and you didn't find your future husband and you're still going on with your life.

"Therefore, there have got to be universes where Trump got elected president, or where the UK left Europe. Or…" He shuddered. "Or both."

Rose shook her head at his daft, over-the-top reaction. But her heart stuttered and she couldn't help but beam at him. He was just… so very _James-ish_ in this moment that her whole body thrummed with love for him.

In an attempt to shove that thought to the side, Rose said, "So there's probably a universe where I decided to not come to uni in the States?"

James went still beside her, but he nodded, a short, quick dip of his head. He looked so sad that she wrapped her arm around his and hugged it.

"For the record," she whispered, "I'm very glad I'm living in this parallel world."

His throat bobbed. After a moment, with a raspy voice, he said, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm glad I'm living in this parallel world, too."

 _Kiss him kiss him kiss him kiss him._ Rose ignored the little voice in her head and instead hugged his arm tighter. That little voice in her head grew louder as she felt his breathing go unsteady, his head ducking down towards hers. She peeked up at him, and saw his eyes were a shade darker than they'd been before. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his eyes flashed to her mouth too.

 _Oh God oh God oh God_.

"Well, it's late," she blurted, panicking. "We should probably go to bed."

"Yeah," he mumbled, his voice flat. "Yeah, you're right."

Rose tossed the blankets off of herself and stood up from the sofa. She nearly ran from the room, but didn't want James to think something was wrong, so she forced herself to move normally as she gathered up some of the dirty dishes and took them to the sink.

After a moment, she heard James following her.

She turned towards him as he walked into the kitchen. His eyes were shuttered, his face wary.

 _Shit_.

"I had a really nice time tonight," she said, wringing her hands in front of her. "Really. This is the most fun I've had in a while." She chewed on her bottom lip and squeezed her fingers so hard that she popped her knuckles. Then, before she could even think, she skipped up to him, rocked up on her tiptoes, and brushed a kiss to his cheek. His skin was soft and warm, and his day-old stubble tickled deliciously, and _god-fucking-dammit_ she was making it a thousand times harder for herself to not press herself closer and move her face a few inches to the side to catch his lips straight on.

It took everything she had to drop back onto her heels and take a step back.

"Thank you, James," she said softly, her cheeks burning. "G'night."

Then she fled the kitchen before he could even reply.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts. (Sorry I haven't responded to anyone's comments in a while... please know I love and appreciate seeing a Review Notification in my email.)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary:** Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

* * *

 **Chapter 7:**

Rose's heart thundered as she shut herself into the guest bedroom. Her cheeks were hot and her stomach was in knots. She'd made an utter fool of herself. How on Earth was she supposed to face James again?

She'd thought he had been going in for a kiss, but what if she was mistaken? What if he'd been shifting around and she'd misinterpreted, and in fleeing, she roused James's suspicions? And what if he _had_ been going in for a kiss? Had he actually meant it, or had the wine lowered his inhibitions?

If he'd only been going in for a kiss because he was drunk, she was glad she'd stopped it. It would break her heart more than it already was if he kissed her then regretted it when he was sober.

But if he had meant to kiss her and wanted to kiss her, she'd rejected him and thus probably dashed any hopes of kissing him in the future.

"Goddammit," she growled under her breath.

 _Perhaps it's for the best, though_ , she thought to herself, hoping to soothe the hurt, frustration, and mortification coursing through her. Because what if he had meant to kiss her and, for some reason, wanted to embark on some sort of relationship with her. What if they tried it, and it just… didn't work? What if he broke her heart? Or worse… what if she broke his?

"Goddammit," she hissed again, rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes until bright colors bloomed behind her lids.

She stood pressed to the door for quite some time, listening to the quiet shuffling of James as he moved about the house. After a while, she heard him walk down the hall, then the quiet snick of his bedroom door opening and closing again. She stayed still for another five minutes, just to be safe, before she grabbed her overnight bad and slipped across the hall into the loo to get ready for bed.

Rose slept better than she expected, what with her racing thoughts, and not to mention it being a strange bed in a strange house. James's scent lingered in the room, mostly coming from the vicinity of the bay window, and it calmed her and soothed her and provided her with pleasant dreams.

She dreamt that she hadn't fled, and that James wanted her as much as she wanted him, that he loved her as she loved him. She dreamt that he'd held her with more gentleness and tenderness than anyone ever had before as she sat in his lap and kissed him. She could so vividly feel the press of his lips against hers, the clutch of his hands at her back, the texture of his hair in her fingers. She could hear his soft, needy sighs and grunts as he pulled her closer, closer, closer…

When she awoke, her body was flushed with desire and frustration. Then when she remembered what, exactly, had transpired the night before, her heart broke all over again.

Even though it was much earlier than her typical wake-up time, she crept across the hall for a shower and to get ready for the day. Half an hour later, Rose snuck back into the bedroom and packed up everything into her bag again, then made the bed.

She heard clanging coming from the kitchen, and when she walked down the hall, her breath caught at the sight. James, still in his pajamas, was moving around the room, tending to various pans as delicious smells wafted 'round the room.

She took a selfish moment to observe him and appreciate his figure. His shirt looked incredibly soft and it clung to his chest, giving her a decent enough view of the flexing muscles in his shoulders and back as he worked. It draped down to his hips, where his pajama bottoms rode low enough to tease her with small slivers of skin whenever he raised his arms above his head. His bum was perfectly toned and round, and she bit her lip hard at the memory of her dream-self grabbing it to hold him against her.

A shiver of desire rippled down her spine, leaving her aching inside. She was in a three-year dry spell, with nothing but her own hands and a vibrator to satisfy her physical needs. It was almost unfair how fit he was. She craved the feeling of his hands on her body, and her hands on his. She wanted to touch every inch of his tall, lithe figure. To have his skin pressing against hers. To hold him completely within her and be held by him in return.

"Morning!"

Her cheeks burned with half embarrassment, half arousal. Her core was throbbing with need, and she was annoyed with herself for letting her imagination get the best of her. She prayed he didn't notice the way she'd been ogling him. Or the lecherous thoughts she'd been entertaining.

"Morning," she replied, clearing her throat against the husky rasp of her voice.

She stepped into the kitchen cautiously, but there was no sign of awkwardness or discomfort from the night before.

James turned back around to tend to the griddle of pancakes he was making, then to the frying pan of sizzling, popping bacon.

"Can I help with something?" she asked.

"Can you mind the bacon?" he asked. "And take them off whenever they're to your liking. Do you prefer crispy or squishy bacon?"

Rose made a face. "Definitely crispy. I don't want my bacon to still be oinking at me whilst I eat it, ta."

James chuckled, then expertly flipped the array of six pancakes on the griddle.

As Rose cooked the bacon, flipping it around the pan as needed, she watched James out of the corner of her eye. Nothing seemed amiss. Were they just going to pretend that last night hadn't been the most awkward situation in the world? Well. The last five minutes of it, at least. The rest of the night had been magical, and Rose wanted more than anything for those memories to overshadow any awkwardness that had eventually arisen.

Rose was nearly overwhelmed by the domesticity and casualness of their movements. They worked around each other as though they'd been preparing breakfast together for years. A lump lodged itself in her throat as a deep, crushing yearning overtook her. Jimmy had never helped her make breakfast. Or any meal, for that matter. And if she were being honest, she'd never had a desire to cook anything special for him. But for James… For James, she wanted to spend the rest of her life making breakfast, lunch, and dinner with him.

Firmly ignoring those thoughts, she said, "This all looks delicious."

"Thanks," he said. "I love making breakfast. I love breakfast. Most important meal of the day, innit?"

Rose smiled at him, and paused before saying, "I never put much effort into it."

He was quiet for a moment, then said, "Not even… with Jimmy?"

She shook her head. "No."

"I loved helping my dad make breakfast," he said softly, gazing intently at the pancakes as he arranged them in a neat stack on a serving plate. "I've always been an early riser. My dad eventually became one too when my parents realized I was never going to let them sleep in. My mum was awful with mornings, so it was often just me and Dad. Some mornings, we'd work together and make these big special breakfasts, then go surprise my mum with breakfast in bed."

Rose's chest cracked at the sadness in his voice. She reached over and rested her hand at his forearm, but he casually slid his arm away from her. She tried not to let her hurt show, and instead she whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Me too." He sighed. "I miss the small things the most, y'know?"

"Yeah. Whenever I think back on Jimmy… obviously he broke my heart, but I fell in love with him for a reason. And there are days when I miss the way things used to be. The small things. But we can't turn back time, and I think all we can do is try to remember the good things from the past but move on to the good things to come."

James's eyes were shiny, and he turned away from her. But she saw his cheeks pulling up in a smile before he said, "That's very deep and philosophical for seven-thirty in the morning."

Rose rolled her eyes and poked her finger into his ribs. He squirmed and laughed, and she couldn't help but laugh with him.

As they finished cooking breakfast, James started heating a kettle then filled his coffee maker with water and grounds. The kitchen was soon filled with the scent of brewing coffee, and Rose appreciated the smell. It seemed to add to the homeyness of the morning.

James pointed her in the direction of the teabags while he prepared his own mug of coffee.

"Not adding ten scoops of sugar?" Rose teased when she saw him add creamer and nothing else to his coffee.

"Nah. It's flavored cream—hazelnut. I love hazelnut cream—and it's quite sweet on its own. Have a taste."

Rose ran her finger across the lip of the bottle, where a drop was slowly running down the side, and sucked the white liquid off her fingertip.

The taste was sickly sweet. "Blech!"

James burst out laughing, and took the bottle from her.

"See?" he said with a grin. "Plenty sweet enough for me."

"To each their own," she muttered, smacking her tongue against the roof of her mouth to dispel the taste.

He stuck his tongue out at her, then went to a cabinet for two plates.

Moments later, they were seated on opposite sides of the kitchen table, leisurely enjoying their breakfast. They didn't talk much, but the quiet was comfortable. Rose had to concentrate on keeping her feet firmly planted on the floor by her chair rather than sprawled closer to his like she wanted. It was as though her body was drawn to him like magnets. She wanted to constantly be close to him, or touching him.

 _This is ridiculous_ , she scolded herself. _Utterly ridiculous. Keep it in your pants, Rose._

Thankfully, James seemed utterly oblivious to her and her lustful thoughts.

"Where are Pippin and Merry?" Rose blurted out, trying to give herself something to focus on that wasn't James.

"I shut them in my room," he answered. "I put their food bowls in there. They have awful table manners, as I said last night."

"I wouldn't have minded," she said.

"Not until Pippin ate your entire plate of pancakes," James said, rolling his eyes. "And got himself sticky with syrup. Nope. Anytime I'm eating something messy, I shut him away so I don't have to give him a bath. One time I left pancakes unattended to save Merry from Gollum, and I came back to see Pippin covered in syrup, with half my stack of pancakes on the floor. The idiot decided he wanted the middle one. He scratched the hell out of my arms when I went to bathe him."

Rose laughed at the picture, even as James pouted.

"Have you no sympathy, Rose Tyler?" he squawked.

"Hmm, not really," she said, sticking her tongue out as she smiled.

He blew a raspberry at her, then took a swig from his steaming mug of coffee.

As though the cat realized he was being talked about, a rather pathetic meow came from down the hallway.

"Poor thing," Rose cooed. Since they were both done eating, she asked, "Can I let them out?"

James nodded, and she moved down the hall to the crying cat. He was just starting to scratch at the door when she opened it.

Pippin screamed happily at her and ran into her legs, rubbing himself against her. Merry was lounging on James's unmade bed, but he gave a soft chirp of acknowledgement.

Rose selfishly took a moment to observe the bedroom. It was very… James. It was sparsely decorated, but filled with furniture. Two walls were completely lined with bookcases, with a desk and dresser shoved along another wall. His queen-sized bed had only two pillows on it, and his nightstand had a pile of four books, a lamp, and a box of tissues.

It smelled so much like him that her stomach panged.

She forced herself out of the room, and kept the door open behind her. Pippin was still circling her feet, but trotted along beside her as she made her way down the hall. His footfalls created little tapping sounds, and his meows wavered in time with the beats.

James was still sitting at the table when she returned, but the plates had been removed.

Pippin leaped onto the table and headbutted James. Rose's heart melted when James nudged his nose into the cat's forehead, then pressed a kiss to it.

"Hiya, bud," he murmured. "Want a pancake?"

Rose then saw that James had ripped up small pieces of a pancake and placed them on a napkin.

Pippin noticed them after a moment, and went directly towards them, scarfing them down as though he hadn't been fed that morning.

A half hour later, after James showered and Rose made sure she packed everything she'd brought, James drove to Rose's flat so she could grab her school bag, then he took them into the university.

"I wonder if Professor Young will have graded our exams yet," James mused as they walked towards the science building.

Rose stumbled a step. "Oh, God. I'd completely forgotten we took an exam."

Her brain whirred frantically as she was choked with anxiety at the prospect of getting a grade back. She remembered the panic of taking that exam—had it only been two days ago? It felt like a lifetime had passed since then—and of not having enough time to finish it.

Rose's worries were temporarily soothed when the professor started the class by saying the exams hadn't been graded yet, but they would get them back on Friday. At least she could ignore her fears for another two days.

Rose took full advantage of her blissful ignorance, and used the post-exam lull to relax and not think about school. All of her classes seemed to have lightened up, and it was a relief to not be completely swamped with work and studying.

But inevitably, Friday arrived.

"With the few remaining minutes of class," the professor said at the end of the lecture period, "I'll hand back your exams. Come up and tell me your last name."

Rose's stomach coiled with dread. She put away her notes and shrugged on her jacket before she and James joined the mass of students surrounding their professor.

It took a few minutes before they reached the front of the queue, but finally they each approached the professor, gave their last name, and were handed the exam. Rose mangled it into a rolled-up rod as she ducked away from the crowd of people, James close on her heels as they exited the lecture hall.

"Well?" he asked expectantly, jutting his chin towards her exam.

"I dunno. Haven't looked," she admitted.

He furrowed his brows.

"I don't think it went well," she sighed.

"Well, you won't know unless you look," he reasoned.

She gritted her teeth. He couldn't possibly understand what she was feeling. He'd never had to endure the nauseating terror of having his failure and stupidity scribbled in red ink across a page. She doubted he'd ever failed anything in his life.

Though she knew he didn't mean to, that he was only trying to help, she couldn't help but feel condescended to.

She breathed in deeply as she unraveled her exam, then the air left her lungs in a sharp whoosh as she beheld the circled 59%.

Her ears were ringing and tears burned behind her eyes. All that time—all that _effort_ —and she'd still failed.

"That's a great improvement over your first—"

"Shut up," she hissed, squeezing her eyes tightly shut even as tears began to leak from behind her lids. "Just… shut up."

She was numb and tingling all over, her body too hot and too cold at the same time, and she wondered if she was going to vomit. Or pass out.

A warm, familiar hand rested on her lower back, then James's voice was in her ear. "Follow me."

Rose sniffed hard and opened her eyes to see other students in their class looking at her sympathetically. The sight made more tears well up in her eyes, so she dropped her head to watch the tiles of the floor go by as James guided her down the corridor.

Her chest ached with disappointment and sorrow as she followed James to the single-person loo. He locked the door behind them, then she was instantly in his arms. When her front pressed to his and his hand went up to cradle the back of her head, she lost all semblance of control.

Loud, wheezing sobs ripped up her throat until she was full-on ugly-crying into his coat. He held her tightly, not saying anything. Instead, he stroked long, soothing lines up and down her back.

When the worst had passed, Rose pulled away from him and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

"I'm so fucking _stupid_ ," she whimpered.

"No, you're not," he said gently.

"Fifty-nine percent," she said scathingly, dropping her hands from her face to glare at him.

"Chemistry isn't your strong suit," he said with a shrug. "But that doesn't mean you're stupid, Rose."

"Whatever," she mumbled, moving to the sink to wash her mascara off her hands and cheeks. She really needed to avoid makeup on days when she was due to get a chemistry grade back.

"Why do you talk down about yourself?" Rose looked at James through the mirror. He was leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest—the picture of relaxed. But there was a tightness to his face and body that belied his nonchalance. "Why call yourself stupid?"

"Because I am," she snapped.

Anger flashed across his face.

"You're doing it again. Why are you tying your worth and perceived intelligence to one single subject?"

Rose didn't bother to reply, and instead she grabbed a handful of scratchy paper towels to scrub her face clean.

"It's not healthy to expect perfection of yourself," James continued. "Everyone has strengths and weaknesses, things that they're good and bad at. You can't be perfect at everything."

"You are," she muttered under her breath.

He heard it, though. "Have you seen me attempt to draw? Blimey, I think a five-year-old has better skill than me."

In spite of herself, Rose snorted.

"Was that a smile?"

She pursed her lips.

"No."

"That was a smile," he said in a sing-song voice. "You _smiled_."

"No, I didn't." But she felt the way her lips were curled up at the ends. It slipped, though, when she remembered what they were originally discussing. "Doesn't matter if you're not good at drawing. You're amazing at so many other things."

"So are you," he countered.

"Not the important stuff."

He frowned. "Who says drawing's not important?"

She shrugged, but James's face was expectant.

Rose heaved a huge sigh and admitted, "I told Jimmy I wanted to go back to school for art. He laughed. Told me if I was to go back to school, I should go for something real. Something useful." Her heart broke all over again as she remembered his scoffed, condescending words. "Mum said something similar, too, when I told her my major."

Rose as staring resolutely at the sink, but from her peripheral view of the mirror, she saw James approach.

"Jimmy is an absolute wanker," he said, his voice sounding strangled. "And so's your mum. Er… no offense. Well. Sort of offense. I mean… the most respectful offense…"

Rose giggled through her renewed tears, and she said, "My mum… has a very grim view of the world. She and I don't see eye to eye on many things. S'one of the reasons I came to America."

"Don't listen to them." His hand landed on her shoulder, tugging. After a moment, she spun around, but kept her gaze down at his feet. There was a piece of dead leaf clinging to one of his shoelaces; she wanted to reach down and pick it off. But his hand went under her jaw, and gently tilted her head back. His face was pinched with a fierceness she didn't quite understand. "Don't you listen to them, Rose. Okay? You are incredible. You are so smart in ways that I can't begin to comprehend. So what if you're rubbish at maths and chemistry. You create beauty in this world, and that's a very important thing. Without people like you, this world would be a very ugly, boring old place to be. Do not compare yourself to anybody else, because everybody is different. Just be the very best version of yourself that you can be, because I lo- I rather enjoy the Rose Tyler I've befriended."

Rose couldn't help the small, tentative smile that spread across her face.

She moved away from him then to splash cold water on her heated cheeks. Her hands went numb after the third rinse, but at least her face wasn't uncomfortably hot anymore, and the cold water soothed her aching eyes.

When she'd dried her face, she turned and saw James had his iPad out.

"Everything isn't as hopeless as you think it is," he said, stepping up beside her. He had an Excel spreadsheet open, and Rose realized it was the grade calculator he'd made for her.

"You've kept it updated?" she said, surprised.

His cheeks went a little pink. He stared at the iPad screen and said, "Well, you know me. Maths geek. Can't help it. Anyway, look. You're doing amazingly on your homework and labs. Much better than my suggested ninety-percent. So really, you only need to do a tiny bit better on exam three and the final exam to get a passing grade."

Rose sighed. How much harder would she have to work in order to do better on the next exam and the final?

But despite that, she was comforted by the numbers James was showing to her. If she could scrape together a sixty-seven percent on the next exam as well as on the final, she would just manage a C in the class. Assuming she continued to get near-perfect scores on her homework and labs, and didn't utterly fail the next quiz in the class.

Slowly a glimmer of hope rose up inside of her, eating away the depression and self-loathing that had overtaken her minutes ago.

"Thanks, James," she whispered, near-tears again. But not tears of sorrow and frustration, but of relief and thankfulness.

He smiled at her, then snapped the cover over his iPad shut and stuffed it into his bag.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah." She gnawed at her lip, then reached out to touch his upper arm. "Thank you. You're an amazing friend."

His smile looked a little stiff, showing too much teeth even though it didn't crinkle his eyes. But he then turned and plucked up her backpack from the floor and handed it to her.

She slung it over her shoulder, then opened the door to the loo.

"What in God's name were you two doing in there?!"

Rose jumped as she and James exited the loo only to see one of the chemistry professors walking down the corridor.

"Oh! It's… erm… well… It's not what it looks like!" James stammered, his cheeks going scarlet. "Really! Promise! We weren't doing anything!"

The professor looked dubiously at the two of them, then his gaze landed on Rose. He must have seen her red-rimmed eyes and splotchy cheeks, because his expression hardened and became frosty.

"Are you all right, miss?" he asked.

"Yeah," Rose croaked. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Yeah. Wasn't feeling well is all. James helped me to the loo."

The professor still wasn't convinced, and he continued glaring at James, who squirmed in discomfort.

"Do you need me to call someone, miss?" he asked gently.

Rose shook her head. "Seriously. I'm fine. Chemistry grade came back as shit is all."

A flash of understanding crossed the man's face. Before he could say anything else, James took her hand and slowly began backing down the hall.

"Thanks for your concern," James said, then he turned and rested his hand on Rose's lower back as he ushered her outside.

When the doors clicked shut behind them, Rose burst into peals of laughter that bent her over and had her clutching her sides.

"Oh, my God," she wheezed.

"Oh, my God," James muttered, his face still bright pink. "I can't believe that just happened. He's probably going to tell the entire faculty I'm a licentious pervert and to watch out for me taking unsuspecting girls into the loo."

Tears of laughter streamed down Rose's face, even as she felt a small pang of pity for James.

"Oh well," he sighed. Rose felt his eyes on her as she attempted to compose herself. "You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"

"Never," she promised, grinning.

He smiled softly at her, then said, "Wanna grab a coffee? Er. Or tea?"

Rose nodded, wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and followed him to the dining hall.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary:** Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

We're winding down to the end. I'm thinking there's going to be 2 or 3 chapters left after this one.

* * *

 **Chapter 8:**

"Hey Mick! Come on in!"

Rose moved back and let her oldest friend step through the threshold into her flat. He was in town for a conference, and had promised to stop by for a visit before flying back to New York.

The scent of grease, cheese, and bread wafted from the large cardboard box in his hands, making her stomach gurgle hungrily.

"Make yourself comfy," she said, taking the pizza box from him to set on her cluttered kitchen table. "S'cuse the mess."

Rose grabbed plates from her cabinet, then opened her fridge for two bottles of beer. After she and Mickey plated their pizza, they sank onto her couch.

"How have you been, babe?" he asked, knocking his knee against hers. "How are you enjoying America?"

"I'm good," Rose answered. She took a bite of pizza but winced when the hot cheese and sauce scalded the roof of her mouth. "America is fine, I suppose. Different from London, but I like it."

"And school?" he prompted.

"It's… okay," she said carefully. "I'm taking a chemistry class. Stupidest decision of my life. I'm rubbish at it. But my other classes are all right, I s'pose. I've only got one art class. Well, I mean, I'm also in an art history class, but I don't particularly count that. My art class is a painting class, which isn't really my specialty, but I like it well enough."

"What have you been working on?" Mickey said, slouching back against the sofa. He took a lazy swig from his beer, then used the bottle to point to Rose's opened but sleeping laptop which was perched atop various loose papers and her sketchpad.

"I was touching up a few photos before you arrived," she answered vaguely.

"Can I see?"

Rose bit her lip. Mickey had always supported her art. While she knew he thought it was a difficult career path to try to follow, he'd never voiced his doubts aloud. He was always game for taking a look at her work, especially if she was trying a new technique.

But she knew that James would be the only thing he'd see on her computer screen. The two of them had gone on a walk during a sudden snow squall a few days ago, and Rose had taken photos of him and the two of them walking around the snowy campus. The snow hadn't lasted longer than a day, but it had been beautiful as it came down.

"Oh, come on," Mickey goaded. "You've never been shy before."

"Shut up," Rose said lightly, smacking his thigh.

"Were you working with a nude model?" he teased.

"Shut up!" she said again, laughing. "No, I haven't worked with a nude model." She gave him a sly smile. "That's not 'til I get to the advanced courses."

"Well then, lemme see," he said.

Rose bit back a sigh and stood up to grab her laptop. She woke it up, logged in, then pulled up the photos she'd been touching up. The first one made her heart squeeze. James had his head tilted back, his eyes squeezed shut, and his mouth wide open as he caught snowflakes on his tongue. It was a close-up shot; bits of snow clung to his lashes and she could easily see the smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose. He was utterly beautiful.

The next photo was of James crouching beside a mini-snowman he'd made. It had taken him ten minutes to scrape up enough snow to build the six-inch-tall snowman. Nevertheless, he was beaming proudly as he squatted beside his creation.

"And who's this?" Mickey asked, raising an eyebrow at her when he realized her subject was the same man.

Her cheeks burned as she muttered, "James."

"And who's James?"

"Nobody," she lied. "A kid in my chemistry class. He's helping me study."

Mickey stifled his grin around a swig of beer. "Uh huh. Sure babe. 'Cos study buddies definitely go on snowy walks together."

Rose's face was on fire, but she couldn't quite get the denial out. She knew she and James were more than friends. Well. _She_ felt more than friendship towards him. But she still didn't know where he stood, or what he thought or felt about her.

The buzzing of her phone gave her the distraction she desperately desired. It vibrated again, then again. The texts came through in rapid-fire succession that immediately told her it was James. It was endearing that he sent a series of back-to-back texts rather than one long message.

A smile crossed her lips when she saw his name on her phone, then she read his texts and her smile grew after each one.

 _Hey! Hope you're having fun with your mate. Sorry if I'm interrupting. Ignore me 'til you're free, if you want._

 _But I've got a question. Well. An invitation. Thanksgiving is the week after next._

 _I know you're not American and probably don't give two shits. But still, when in Rome, y'know._

 _Anyway, I was gonna have a few mates 'round my place for dinner. Mates who live far enough away that they aren't going home for the break._

 _Turkey and potatoes and stuffing and veggies and pie. Basically it's Christmas, Part One. Gluttonous Americans._

 _Oh, the dessert-y pie btw._

 _There's gonna be loads of food._

 _What d'you say Rose Tyler?_

"Is that him then?"

Rose jolted, then her cheeks flamed. She'd forgotten she wasn't alone, and she was painfully aware that she had the daftest grin on her face.

"Maybe," she said. She grabbed her bottle of beer and took a long pull from it, hoping the motion would help get rid of her smile.

"What'd he want?"

"To invite me to Thanksgiving dinner in two weeks," she said. Mickey waggled his eyebrows, and she reached over and pinched his arm. "He invited several people, Micks."

She turned back to her phone and typed, "That sounds great! Count me in!"

 _Woohoo!_

Then he sent three grinning emojis and three thumbs-up. She smiled and sent back, "Can't wait! I'm excited to see what the hype is all about."

"You really love him, don't you?"

Rose whipped her head around to face her friend, who was watching her closer than she was comfortable with.

"Dunno what you're talking about," she mumbled, but her voice was thin. "We're just mates."

But Mickey was looking at her dubiously, and Rose didn't bother to deny it again.

"Have you told him?"

"Course not," she scoffed.

"How come?"

"Because what if he doesn't feel the same way? Or what if he turns out to be another Jimmy?" That was her biggest fear. She was already so in love with James, even more than she'd been with Jimmy. It was exhilarating and terrifying. The stakes seemed much greater this time, and she knew that if things went badly with James, it would hurt even worse than last time.

"Has he given any indication that he's a lying, cheating wanker?"

"Well, no, but neither did Jimmy at first," Rose argued. But she couldn't picture James becoming like Jimmy. She was sure there were warning signs with Jimmy, but her stupid teenaged self had been too besotted and naive to see them. She knew better now, and yet James wasn't showing any signs of being anything other than his adorable, goofy, kind, lovable self.

"Are you gonna go through life assuming the worst about people?" Mickey asked carefully. "That's not the Rose Tyler I knew."

"You knew the Rose Tyler who didn't have her heart broken," she sighed.

Mickey gave her an appraising look. "You've got it bad," he said softly. "For someone who's insisting you're 'just friends'."

Rose sighed as she began gnawing at her thumb cuticle.

"Maybe a bit," she admitted. "He's just… he's amazing, Mick."

"Then why haven't you snogged him yet?" Mickey asked.

"We've gone over this," Rose huffed. "Jimmy sort of put a sour taste in my mouth regarding relationships."

"That son of a bitch wins if you let yourself be miserable and alone. Do you really want to be moping about that wanker when he's out there shagging that bimbo he left you for?" Rose winced. "Sorry, babe. But you know what I mean."

"Yeah. And no, I don't. I'm not miserable, Mickey. And I'm not lonely." She hissed as she bit her cuticle down too far and it began to bleed. "I just… what if it doesn't work? Or what if he's not attracted to me and things get awkward. He's my best mate. Apart from you, of course," she added hastily when Mickey let out a grunt of protest. "I love being around him, and I love our friendship. I don't want that to go away."

"Have you ever considered the idea that he's as in love with you as you are with him?" Mickey asked.

"I… no, not really. Because that means getting my hopes up."

"What wrong with that?" Mickey shrugged. "Rose, I know you're scared of being hurt again. I _know_. But think about what you might be losing. Eh? What if you're both in love with each other and are perfect together? Remember how happy you were with Jimmy in the beginning? Imagine that, but deeper. And forever."

"Being with Martha has made you soft," Rose teased, even as a lump lodged itself in her throat.

"Oi, don't knock it," Mickey said, jabbing his elbow into her ribs. "Being in love is the best thing that's happened to me. I want that for you, too, Rose. I want to see you happy."

"I _am_ happy," she stressed.

"I want to see you happier," he amended.

Rose loosed a long, low breath. "I never thought I'd see the day when Mickey Smith gave me dating advice."

Mickey chuckled, but sensed that Rose was done with the conversation, and stood up for another beer.

He stayed for another few hours before calling a taxi to take him back to his hotel room.

Even after Mickey had long gone, his parting piece of advice still rang in her head. _Instead of imagining the worst-case scenario, imagine the best._

oOoOo

Rose was eager to go to her chemistry lecture on Monday morning. She hadn't talked with James much over the weekend, between hanging out with Mickey and working a ten-hour shift at the grocery store on Sunday.

But when she sat down for class, James was nowhere to be found. He didn't stroll in at the last minute, like he sometimes did, and when she checked her phone after the period was over, there were no texts from him letting her know he wouldn't be in.

She headed to the library to pass the time until her noontime class, and when she sank into a plush sofa, she pulled out her phone and sent James a message.

"I hope everything's all right."

She spent the next fifteen minutes opening and closing various apps, waiting anxiously for James to reply. It wasn't like him to go suddenly silent.

 _Yeah. Fine. Why?_

She exhaled with relief.

"You weren't in class today."

 _Am I not allowed to skip class just because I feel like it? I didn't realize I needed your permission. Or to check in with you._

Rose started, then her chest caved at his un-James-like rudeness.

"Of course you can. Sorry. Didn't mean to nag."

Tears burned behind her lids and she pressed her palms to them. The last thing she wanted to do was break down in the library. But she was self-conscious and upset by James's behavior.

Towards the end of their ill-fated relationship, Jimmy had used to tell her to stop nagging him. That she was being paranoid and suffocating him. That she shouldn't have been surprised he found another girl who was more trusting and less paranoid.

Her phone buzzed on her thigh.

 _No, I'm sorry. I'm being rude. Really. I'm sorry. I appreciate you checking in. For all you knew, I was dead in a ditch. I'm sorry._

Rose sniffled and wiped her stinging nose against her sleeve.

"If I'm being overbearing, please tell me," she said, even though it would hurt if James asked for distance from her.

 _You're not. I promise._

 _I'm just. Not feeling well._

"Sick?"

 _No. Emotionally. Having a shit day._

 _I'm actually gonna go back to bed now._

 _I'll see you Wednesday._

 _Sorry I was an arse._

Rose frowned at her phone, but didn't reply.

She was worried about him for the rest of the day. He must be having a truly awful day if he skipped school. Sure, she'd seen him on the days when he was short-tempered or sullen, but he was always pleasant and polite with her, even if he was sometimes quiet and withdrawn. And she'd always managed to make him smile on those days.

But this seemed different. She didn't know why, but she felt it deep in her gut.

Finally, she was done with classes for the day, glad that Monday was her early day. At two in the afternoon, Rose stood at the bus stop, but rather than catch the bus to her apartment, she instead rode it to the stop near the grocery store. She had a list running in her head, and it was a quick trip in for the ingredients to make her Nan's old homemade chicken noodle soup. As a little girl, that had always been one of her favorite meals, and as she grew older, Rose often made it as a comfort food.

While James wasn't physically ill, she hoped the soup would cheer him up even a tiny bit. Or at the very least, it would be a quick meal for him if he wasn't in the mood to do any cooking.

For the next two hours, Rose slaved over an enormous pot of boiling chicken, adding seasonings and chopped vegetables and lastly noodles to the pot. Her flat was filled with the scent of the cooking soup, and it made an ache of nostalgia ping in her chest.

The soup was eventually ready, and Rose ladled half of it into a different pot. Then she called for an Uber and made her way to James's house.

She argued with herself for the entire ride. Was she crossing some sort of boundary? Would he be annoyed that she showed up? Would he think it was weird? Would he think it was overbearing and suffocating, no matter what he'd said earlier?

Her heart thudded rapidly against her ribs as the driver pulled into James's development. Well, there was nothing to do but go for it. At the very least, she'd drop off the soup then go back home.

"This house here?" the driver asked.

"Yeah. Could you wait for a few minutes? I'm dropping off food for a friend. I dunno if he's even home or anything."

Even though Rose could plainly see James's car in his driveway.

"Sure thing."

Rose clambered out of the back of the car, vat of soup in her arms, then she walked to the front door. Her hands were full, so she pressed the doorbell with her elbow.

Long seconds passed, and Rose was about to try the bell again when the door opened. James looked awful. His hair was unkempt, his eyes were red and glassy, and he was still in his pajamas.

"Rose?" he asked, his voice hoarse. He blinked rapidly a few times, as though he didn't believe it was actually her standing there.

"Er, hi. I- I just wanted to check that you were okay." Then she raised her arms a little, showing him the pot in her hands. "I made soup. If you want."

"Yeah. Thanks. Haven't eaten since breakfast."

Rose frowned. "It's nearly six o'clock."

He shrugged.

"Are you… all right?"

He shrugged again.

"Do you want to be alone?" she asked quietly.

"Why would anyone want to be alone?" he asked bitterly. She'd never heard him use that tone before, and the combination of anger and agony made her stomach twist into knots. She wanted to drop the soup and take James into her arms until that haunted look left his face.

"I meant… do you want me to come in and hang out for a while?"

"You don't have to," he said wearily, rubbing his fingertips into his eyes. "I'm not going to be good company."

"You don't need to be," she said. "We can sit on the couch in complete silence if you'd like. I'm actually here to see your cats, anyway."

The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah. Okay."

She grinned. "Kay."

Rose turned towards the idling driver and balanced the pot of soup on one hip to free up a hand. She waved him off, and he raised his hand in recognition before pulling away. She then turned back towards James and followed him into his house.

"Hi, Pip," Rose said as the tabby zoomed straight into her legs. Pippin chirped and wove between her feet, nearly tripping her as she walked to the kitchen. "I'm gonna start heating this up, if that's all right? It shouldn't take long. I just made it so it's still warm."

James nodded and followed her as she set the pot of chicken soup on the stovetop and turned on the burner.

"We'll let that heat through, then we'll eat," she said, more to fill the silence between them than anything.

With the soup beginning to warm up, Rose had nothing else to keep her attention. She turned and rested her bum against the counter and looked at James.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently.

James had mirrored her position and was intently watching little tufts of steam rise from the pot.

"Today's the day my parents died," he said, his voice flat and toneless. "It's always a hard day. Usually my aunt comes by, but she couldn't get the time off this year."

"Oh, James."

"Don't," he bit out. "Just… don't."

Rose tried not to let her hurt show on her face.

"Sorry," he mumbled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pajama bottoms as he scuffed his socked toes across the floor.

Rose tentatively stepped up to him, and she reached out to touch his arm. The muscles of his forearm stiffened, but she kept her hand on his skin and rubbed her thumb through the fine hairs on his arm. After a moment, his muscles loosened.

She leaned back against the counter and moved her hand to link her arm through his. She hugged it to her chest and rested her head on his shoulder.

He sighed, then rested his head atop hers.

"It's been nine years," James murmured. "And I'm still… so _angry_. I'm furious with them. Both of them. Why did my mum have to bother with our stupid dogs? Eh? And why did my dad go back in? Why did he just… _leave_ me? He left me outside. He left me alone."

James's voice broke, and so did Rose's heart. Her eyes burned, but she squeezed them shut, forcing her tears back.

"Why did they leave me?"

Rose shuffled until she was standing in front of him, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. She lifted onto her tiptoes until she could set her chin on his shoulder. His cheek scraped across hers, then his ear pressed into her cheek as he hugged her back tightly. He was trembling slightly, and Rose stroked his back in what she hoped was a soothing manner.

"I'm so sorry, James," she whispered. "So sorry."

He didn't say anything, but he tightened his arms around her.

Rose didn't say anything more, nor did she drop her arms from around James. She'd hold him for as long as he needed it.

Eventually, he gave her a single squeeze then straightened. Taking his cue, she dropped her arms and took a step back.

His eyes were red-rimmed, but she pretended to not notice. She gave him a tentative, tight-lipped smile, which he returned before he turned away from her to find a tissue. As he blew his nose, Rose went to the stove and stuck a ladle into the pot of soup to stir it.

"I think it's done. Want some?"

"Yes please," he said, his voice somewhat raspy. He cleared it. "I'm starved and it smells amazing."

"Bowls?" she asked, gesturing to his cabinets.

She skated to the one he pointed to, and she grabbed two bowls for them, and scooped soup into it. She then grabbed spoons and walked to the dining table.

"Pippin," Rose sighed when the tabby leaped gracefully onto the table and lifted himself onto his back legs to try to see what was in her hands. "You're gonna burn your little nose."

James lifted his cat into his arms. Pippin nuzzled into James's chest, but then began to cry when he realized James was walking him out of the kitchen. Rose giggled at the pathetic cat while she set the bowls onto the table and slid into a seat.

"The idiot acts as though I never feed him," James grumbled when he walked back into the kitchen. "Can I get you something to drink? Water? Wine? Beer? Other?"

"Water's fine," Rose answered. "Thanks."

James grunted in acknowledgement, then passed her her beverage and sat in the chair opposite her.

They slurped at their soup, and apart from James complimenting the meal, he didn't say anything. The silence was only somewhat uncomfortable, but Rose didn't want to force him to make conversation if he didn't feel like it. So she simply stared at her own bowl, pushing the contents around after each bite.

Rose was pleased when James ladled himself a second albeit smaller helping. He finished the entire thing, then cleared their dishes and stacked them into the empty sink. That task done, he turned to her and stared intently at her for a few uncomfortable seconds.

"Why are you here?"

Rose frowned.

James's eyes widened. "I mean, obviously I'm glad you're here. You've made today as bearable as it can be. But… why?"

Her face softened. _Because I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you, and my God, my heart is breaking for you today and I can't bear the thought of you being upset or lonely._

His gaze was on her, expectant, as she swallowed down the words she wished she could say.

"Because you're my friend. You're my _best_ friend," she modified. "And it hurts me to see you hurting. And I know I can't erase all the pain you're feeling, but the least I can do is be here so you're not alone."

James's expression was unreadable and his eyes were glassy. But he blinked and they cleared, but the unidentifiable gentleness remained on his face.

"Thank you," he murmured. "You're… I…" He clicked his teeth shut, then ran his hand through his limp hair. "Do you want to watch a movie or something? Or do you need to be getting home?"

"I can stay," Rose said immediately. While she had a stack of work to do, she knew it would be there for her tomorrow.

Rose followed James into the living room, and she lowered herself onto the couch beside him as he turned on his television and opened the Netflix app.

"Find something for us to watch," he said, giving her the remote. "I'm gonna free Pip from his prison."

Rose chuckled and scrolled through the list of films, unsure of what James was in the mood for. Probably something light and funny.

She finally settled on a rom-com, hoping James wouldn't mind. She'd never been able to watch those kinds of movies with Jimmy. He'd always moaned until she flipped it to a superhero or action movie.

"Excellent choice," James said, making her jump. She hadn't heard him return. Pippin jumped onto the couch and into Rose's lap, kneading her in a rhythm she thought too quick to be soothing. But he was purring loudly and blinking lazily.

James plopped down beside her, then she hit the play button and they settled in to watch a woman travel to Paris to try to win back her fiancé's heart.

They didn't speak at all though the movie, but they each laughed to themselves at certain scenes. Rose was pleased whenever she saw James smile out of the corner of her eye.

"Wanna watch another?" Rose asked when the end credits rolled.

"We don't have to," James said quietly. "It's getting late. You can go home if you'd like."

"I'm up for another movie if you are," Rose answered. "Or if you're subtly trying to tell me you want me to leave, you're gonna have to be a bit more obvious."

James snorted and rolled his eyes, but she saw his entire body relax as he picked up the remote and sifted through the movies. He landed on a Disney film—Tarzan. She was a little surprised by his selection, considering how the movie began.

As they watched the flames eat up the ship and Tarzan's parents flee in their lifeboat, James began to speak.

"That night was the worst night of my life. I can still remember everything perfectly, no matter how hard I try to forget.

"My dad came into my room and shook me awake, saying the house was on fire. None of the alarms were going off. The batteries were probably shot. I don't ever remember my parents checking or replacing them. Half the house was already in flames. The police still don't know what caused the fire. Anyways. Dad grabbed me and ran. He literally… He hoisted me over one shoulder and carried me outside.

"He waited with me for about a minute. But he was terrified for my mum. So he went back inside. He hadn't been in for more than five seconds before the whole house just… exploded. Literally. Blown to bits. I got knocked to my arse and hit my head and passed out.

"When I came to, I was in the hospital and couldn't hear anything. I think I started screaming, 'cos they knocked me out. Then when I woke up, Aunt Sarah was there. When my head was healed, she took me home with her to Croydon.

"It was hard for both of us at first. I hated her. It wasn't fair, but I resented everything about her. I hated her house. I hated Croydon. I hated my new school. I hated myself. I hated my parents. I hated my stupid, fucking, arsehole dogs. And I especially hated my mum for wanting to save them instead of herself, and for making my dad go back inside.

"Bless Aunt Sarah, though. She let me rage, but she also held me accountable and told me off when I was being a bit too dramatic. She made me go to counselling, which I grudgingly admit helped after a while. Eventually I woke up one day and my anger was gone. More or less. But then the depression set in.

"It scared my aunt to death to see me go from emotional to numb seemingly overnight. But I worked through that, too. It took a damn long while. But funnily enough, moving to the United States helped. Aunt Sarah had wanted to move here for so long, but put it off because she didn't want to upset me with too many changes too quickly.

"But when I was sixteen, she asked if I might like to come to America, and I jumped at the chance. I figured I could remake myself. I didn't have to be the boy whose parents died. I could just be James, the cool kid with a cool accent."

James blinked, then his cheeks turned red. "Sorry. I kinda word-vomited there."

"Don't be sorry," Rose said, reaching over to thread her fingers through his. "I don't mind listening."

He gave her hand a squeeze, then kept their fingers interwoven as they lapsed back into silence.

About half way through the movie, James's fingers began to twitch in hers. She glanced over and saw his head was tipped back and he was half asleep. He jerked himself awake half a dozen times before he fell into a deeper sleep and didn't stir for the remainder of the movie.

It was almost eleven o'clock, and Rose was drowsy but still awake. James, however, was completely out and snoring softly. She carefully lifted herself up off the couch, then took the blanket they'd been sharing and tucked it higher up on his chest. He didn't stir.

She straightened, then chewed on her lip as she tried to figure out what she should do. Should she stay with him? Or should she call an Uber to take her back to her flat? She wanted to stay, but perhaps that was too presumptuous. But she also didn't want James to wake up and not know where she was.

After she tidied up the house—putting the leftover soup in the fridge, washing up the few dishes in the sink—Rose went back into the living room. James was still dead asleep, though Pippin had curled himself into his side. The cat chirped, then the sound morphed into a yawn as he rolled closer to James and went to sleep.

Rose smiled. Then, making a potentially rash decision, she took the blanket that was draped along the back of the couch and sat down in the recliner. She pulled the footrest up and leaned back to get comfy. She curled up on her side to watch James.

His chest rose and fell slowly as he breathed. The deep lines that had been present all night on his face her smoothed over. He looked like any other untroubled twenty-two-year-old boy.

A warm ache bloomed inside of Rose, swelling through her chest and stomach as she watched him sleep. She could get used to this.

 _Instead of imagining the worst-case scenario, imagine the best._

Unbidden, Mickey's piece of advice clanged through her head.

What was the best-case scenario?

She would profess her love for James, and miraculously, he would admit he felt the same way. She would kiss him, and he'd kiss her back. She would promise to love him forever, and he would give her that same promise, and they both would uphold the vow for the rest of their lives. She would find her soulmate in him, and he would find his soulmate in her.

Rose yearned for that fantasy to come true. She wanted so badly to tell James how she felt. Even if he didn't feel the same way, she found that she didn't want to hold anything back. In fifty years, she didn't want to look back and regret not saying anything to James and potentially miss out on her great love story.

 _After finals_ , Rose vowed to herself. _Let me get through this class. Then I'll tell him. Let me get through this semester, and I'll talk to him. It's only four more weeks._

A sense of calmness settled over Rose, and with her resolve strengthened, she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary:** Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

We're winding down to the end. Just one more chapter and an epilogue after this.

* * *

 **Chapter 9:**

Rose woke up in the middle of the night to something solid landing on her chest. Heart hammering, she jolted upright and blinked wildly, batting at the thing on top of her. Her fingers met with sleek fur as an annoyed _mrrrp_ sounded from her stomach and two luminous eyes glared at her accusingly.

"Jesus," Rose sighed. "You scared me, Pip."

Pippin crawled back onto her chest and began the process of finding a comfortable spot. More than once, his arse was shoved into her face and she leaned away from it. He eventually plopped down and began purring contentedly, the vibrations of his body making Rose drowsy.

Until she remembered where she was, and that she'd invited herself to sleep over at James's house without his permission.

Her gaze shot to the couch, but it was empty. Rose plopped her head back against the recliner. Well, at least he hadn't woken her up to toss her out of his house. Though he was far too polite to do that anyway.

Rose sighed, but settled back into her chair. She was tired and it was still dark out. She might as well try to get a bit more sleep before having to see James and give him an awkward apology.

She reached up to rub Pippin's soft little head, then pulled her blanket closer around her shoulders. No. Not blanket. _Blankets_. Plural.

Glancing down, Rose realized that she had somehow become covered by the blanket James had been sleeping under mere hours earlier. Something twisted inside of her at the thought that James had covered her with a blanket.

She inhaled deeply and hummed when she realized her new blanket smelled like him. She tucked her hands under her chin, bringing the blanket with them, and she fell back to sleep surrounded by James's comforting scent.

When she awoke again, the sky outside was a light gray color. While the recliner wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, Rose felt well enough rested that the day wouldn't be a sleepy struggle.

She froze when she realized she'd awoken because she'd heard footsteps. She closed her eyes and stilled, pretending to sleep. Moments later, James paused at the entrance to the living room. Slowly, she cracked open one eyelid. Through her lashes, she saw him standing a few feet away, just looking at her.

A thrill of… something shot through her. She was a little self-conscious, but at the same time, she'd watched James sleep the previous night, so turnabout was fair play. (Never mind the fact that he didn't know she'd been watching him. Then again, James didn't know that she knew he was watching her now either.)

He began to move closer, and she shut her eye. Her body was far too tense to pass as sleeping, but she hoped James didn't notice. She was hyper-aware of him so that when he rested his hand on her arm, she wasn't entirely surprised.

"Rose." His voice was soft and gruff from sleep. His hand rubbed up and down from her shoulder to her elbow. Even though their skin was separated by two blankets and her sweatshirt, goosebumps still prickled across her body. "Rose. Wake up. Ro-oooose."

Her heart clenched at the way he crooned her name, his lilting voice turning it into two syllables. A pang of longing went through her as she wished she could wake up every morning like this. Well, perhaps not _exactly_ like this—she'd prefer a bed to a recliner—but she wanted to wake up with him.

She made a show of slowly beginning to stir, and she was pleased when he kept rubbing her arm. She never wanted him to stop.

When she cracked open her eyes, all coherent thought left her mind. His face was inches away; her eyes skated across the freckles that speckled his cheeks and nose. Then they darted down his lips, which were pulled in a lovely little smile that made her tingle all over.

She smiled sleepily. "Morning."

"Morning."

But soon embarrassment cleared her head and warmed her ears and cheeks. "Sorry for sort of inviting myself to spend the night. But you were asleep and I didn't want to wake you, and I didn't want you to wake up alone, so I just sort of…" She broke off with a shrug.

"I don't mind. I…" His cheeks pinkened. "I'm glad you stayed."

They looked at each other shyly for a minute before James stood up.

"We should get moving. Want breakfast first, or would you prefer me to take you back to your flat right away?"

"Oh, it's okay. I can call for an Uber."

James shook his head. "Please. I insist. After all you did for me yesterday… Please?"

Rose nodded, then said, "Breakfast would be great." She rooted around on the floor where she'd set her phone last night. "What time is it?"

"Seven," he answered, right as she hit the home button and saw _06:58_ flash on the screen. "You've still got some time until you need to be at the school for your Shakespeare class."

Silly though it was, Rose was pleased that James remembered when she had classes. And that he was thoughtful enough to wake her with plenty of time to spare so she could go back to her flat for a shower and a change of clothes first. She hadn't relished the idea of spending the day in the same clothes as yesterday.

"Toast and eggs all right?" James asked as Rose lowered the footrest of the recliner.

"Yep."

She followed him into the kitchen, where Pippin and Merry were crunching over their bowls of food. James moved around the space, gathering a frying pan, eggs, and butter.

"I'll mind the toast," Rose offered when he grabbed a loaf of bread from the pantry.

Together, they worked to make a nice but simple breakfast. Rose slathered butter and raspberry jam over their toast while James expertly fried and flipped the eggs, not breaking the yolks as Rose often accidentally did.

The conversation was sparse as they ate, though it was by no means uncomfortable. On the contrary, Rose was perfectly at ease as she sopped up the remnants of the runny egg yolk with the last bit of her toast, not caring that her fingers got messy.

James had left the crusts on his plate and was cradling his nearly-empty mug of coffee in his long fingers.

"I'll cut the crusts off for you next time like my cousin does for her five-year-old," Rose teased.

James stuck his tongue out at her, but his cheeks had turned pink. He didn't look embarrassed though—in fact, he was smiling faintly—and Rose shrugged it off.

"When you've finished your tea, we can leave," he said, gulping down the last of his coffee.

He began to clear up their dishes while Rose drank her tea as quickly as possible without scalding her mouth. Then he walked her to his car, his hand on her lower back, and drove her home.

"I'll see you tomorrow," James promised, idling outside of her building. "Thank you so much, Rose. I—" He hesitated, his mouth working silently for a moment, before he eventually said, "I'm incredibly lucky to have you as my friend."

Rose wished he was out of his car so she could give him a hug. "I'm lucky to have you as my friend, too. If you're ever having a bad day and want to talk or just hang out, let me know. I'll always be here for you, James."

His responding grin was dazzling, making her breath catch. With a cheerful wave and a two-fingered half-salute, James pulled away from her building and drove off.

oOoOo

After that, something shifted almost imperceptibly between herself and James. Rose couldn't put her finger on what had changed; all she knew is that things seemed more intimate between them.

They used the impending approach of the third exam and finals week as an excuse to study more often, but their study sessions frequently found them talking about non-chemistry-related things.

They shared pieces of their pasts and talked about their futures. Rose's heart raced with delight and anxiety when they both talked about the following semester and the rest of their time at the university as though it was set in stone that she would be around to see it. And as though they planned to still spend time together.

She appreciated his confidence, and used it to attempt to kindle her own fledgling optimism. Rose was doing superbly on all of her assignments and lab work; any time she showed James a new score that was near-perfect, he beamed at her as though she was holding a winning lottery ticket and scooped her in for a congratulatory hug.

It was hard to not feel hopeful, especially when the Excel spreadsheet of her chemistry grades kept changing, projecting that she needed a lower and lower score on her final exam to get a passing grade in the class.

"You are doing so well with this unit, Rose," James praised on their last study session before the Thanksgiving break. "You're amazing! Look at this!" He took her quiz from her and waved it in front of her nose, as though she hadn't been staring at the circled 95% at the top. "Amazing!"

"Finally some of this seems to be making sense," Rose said, still grinning with pride. They were in the final few chapters of the class, learning about molecular geometries and shapes and how things were bonded together, something she'd been worried about until she realized her artistic background would help her immensely with visualizing three-dimensional orientations of molecules.

"This is more than making sense. This is understanding. You're getting it, Rose. You're truly understanding what's going on." He then pulled a sour expression and whined, "You're rendering me obsolete!"

Rose rolled her eyes and nudged her elbow into his ribs. "Oh shut up. I'm still going to need your amazing brain to help me get that 62% I need on the final. Besides, I've grown quite fond of you; you're not getting rid of me that easily."

James blushed, but smiled.

"Right, so I think that's enough studying for today," Rose said. "It's a holiday, which means no thinking at all for the next few days."

"I'm not sure that's exactly what's supposed to happen during break," James argued.

"Is too. What time should I get to yours on Thursday?"

James pressed the tip of his tongue to the backs of his teeth as he gazed at a point above and beyond her shoulder. "Hmm… It's gonna be more of a late lunch than an actual dinner. So probably around two or three?"

"D'you want help cooking?" Rose asked, remembering past Christmases where her mother and various relatives all worked nearly-nonstop in the kitchen before the meal. "I can get there earlier. I don't mind. I'd be eager to see the whole process of Thanksgiving."

"Really, it's just like Christmas," James said. "Turkey goes in first, then the sides are made at different times."

Rose tried not to let her disappointment show as she forced a nod. James's eyes went a bit wide.

"But it'd be really nice to have some help," he said quickly. "I'd love for you to come earlier. It'd be nice to have an extra set of hands."

"If you don't want me there…"

"I do," he said firmly. "Come by in the morning. Say… nine or ten?"

"Sounds good," Rose said, and she gathered her school bags and headed to her flat.

The university had closed for the holiday beginning on Wednesday, and Rose spent the day catching up on all of the chores and errands she had been putting off. She cleaned every inch of her home and began to browse the Internet for Christmas gift ideas.

As the evening approached, Rose sent James a text. "Need/want me to bring anything tomorrow?"

His reply came back immediately.

 _Just yourself._

 _Btw, want me to pick you up?_

 _Bus routes are few and far between on holidays. And Uber rates are expensive._

Rose chewed on her lip, trying to decide. On one hand, he was right; using public transportation tomorrow would be a hassle. But on the other, she didn't want to inconvenience James by having him drive all the way to her flat only to turn right around and go back home again.

 _Seriously, I don't mind. What are best mates for, anyway?_

"For living vicariously through your cat babies," she teased.

 _Rose Tyler, you wound me._

"Oh, you know I love you." Rose froze at the natural response, then quickly deleted the words before she could accidentally send the text. Instead, she typed, "You know I'm kidding. And yeah, if you really don't mind, getting a lift from you would be great."

 _Excellent. I shall see you tomorrow around nine-ish._

 _Also. It's gonna be a long day tomorrow. And as we've just established, Uber rates are insane._

 _So if you want to spend the night at mine, you're more than welcome to._

 _If you want._

"Mate-date sleepover?" Rose hesitated, then added the winking emoji and sent the message.

Small dots popped up on her phone, but they disappeared seconds later. Then they reappeared. This happened half a dozen times, and Rose was about to reboot her phone, thinking it was glitching, when it buzzed in her hand.

 _Exactly!_ He'd added a grinning emoji.

She would have traded her soul to know what he'd been typing and deleting for a full minute.

"Sounds great. See you tomorrow!"

oOoOo

Preparing dinner with James was magical. They worked seamlessly around each other, checking on the turkey and basting it, boiling potatoes, cooking veggies, and occasionally stealing pieces of the various fruit pies to sample.

It was as though they were always meant to be doing this. Hosting holidays together.

James was in a tight pair of jeans and a snug t-shirt that showed off his lithe body. Rose stared openly at the flex and ripple of his muscles as he worked. His forearms. His pecs. His shoulders. His back.

Her body ached to touch him, to wrap her arms around him and press herself against him until there was not even the slightest sliver of space between them. She wanted to know how his body moved with hers. She wanted to know where her hands would settle as they kissed. She wanted to know where his would settle.

"I'm sure the potatoes aren't that interesting," James said, bumping his hip into hers. That made the heat in her belly flare sharply. "Thinking deep thoughts?"

 _Only about how much I want to snog you. And maybe shag you._

"I truly am as dull as you said. Boiling potatoes are the height of fascination," she said dryly.

He giggled, a giddy sound from high in his throat. She loved that sound. She wanted to hear it every day, wanted to be the person who made him make that sound.

He stepped closer to her and stabbed a fork into the potatoes. The warmth from his body radiated into hers, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.

"Still needs some time," he murmured, his mouth right beside her ear. His breath was hot and he was so, so close now.

And before she could respond, his lips landed on the side of her neck. She hummed low in her throat and tilted her head to the side, giving him more room. He took advantage of it and began pressing delicate kisses along the arch of her jaw. She lifted her hand and threaded her fingers through his hair to hold him in place. Not that he was going anywhere.

"James," she breathed.

"Rose," he replied. She felt him smirk against her, then his teeth scraped across her skin.

She shuddered in his arms, then turned. A cocky grin was on his lips, but it slipped when she lifted herself onto her toes and yanked him down for a kiss. A real, proper, full-on kiss. He sighed into her mouth and melted into her.

Rose wrapped her arms around his shoulders to hold him close. _Finally_ , she thought. _Oh, God, finally_. His lips were soft and a little dry, and they moved perfectly with hers. They found a slow, lazy rhythm and kept it, unhurried.

His arms draped loosely around her waist, hugging her gently to him. One of her hands went to his jaw, his cheek, holding his face tenderly while her other hand fisted into his hair. She enjoyed the motions of his jaw as they kissed.

When she scraped her nails across his scalp, he let out a knee-weakening groan that made her core begin to throb.

With a noise that was a cross between a growl and a hiss, Rose walked him backwards a few steps until he collided against the wall. He smiled beneath her mouth, but let her pin him to the wall.

His hands dipped under the hem of her shirt so his fingers could map out the expanse of her back. She shuddered as his fingers caressed her skin, then settled at the base of her spine. His fingers clenched and released, mirroring the motion of his mouth against hers.

He was a fantastic kissing partner. His lips pulled and gave way, dominated and submitted. His breathing was ragged and he kept letting out tiny, needy noises that made her press herself closer. Their hips were flush, and they were rocking and grinding and writhing together, stoking the fire that was roaring through her veins.

The oven beeped at them, and James faded away from her, taking the solid length of his body away from her touch.

"No," she whimpered, grasping for him.

He grinned at her, looking entirely put together and composed while she thought she might scream with frustration.

The oven continued blaring.

Only it wasn't the oven.

Rose's eyes snapped open. Her body was hot and tense, and an unbearable ache throbbed between her legs.

"Fuck," she grumbled, then she fumbled for her phone to silence her alarm.

She flopped back down onto her bed and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes. That dream had felt so real. Now, not only was she turned on and alone, but her chest twinged with sorrow and longing that she'd never actually kissed James. Or had him kiss her while holding her like she was the most important person in his world.

"Fuck," she repeated. She swung her legs off the side of her bed and got up to take a long, cold shower.

James arrived a few minutes after nine. Rose carried her overnight bag down to his car, then flung it into the back seat and slid into the passenger's seat.

When they got to his home, Rose chucked her bag into the spare bedroom that she was desperately trying not to call "hers". Then they went to the kitchen to begin food preparations.

There wasn't much to do at first, and Rose boosted herself onto the countertop to watch James season the turkey and pop it into the oven. She took the time to observe him. His jeans weren't as tight as they'd been in her dream, but they still gave her a very generous view of his arse. He was wearing a jumper though, which, to Rose's disappointment, hid the movement of his upper body from her. It was probably for the best.

"You all right?"

Rose snapped her gaze up from where she'd been rotating between ogling his bum and his exposed forearms. Her face heated, but she ignored it and instead forced a smile.

"Fine," she said. "Just a little tired. I didn't sleep all that well last night."

"Feel free to make yourself a cuppa tea," he said. "If that'll help."

Her smile turned genuine, and she hopped down from her perch to make tea for the both of them. It was nearly automatic, the way she dumped milk into the mugs then added honey and a lemon wedge to hers and several scoops of sugar to his. But when she turned, he was looking at her with a soft, unreadable expression.

"What?" she asked, self-conscious.

He shook his head faintly. "I… Nothing… It's just… You remembered how I take my tea."

Rose frowned. "Well, yeah." Then she shot him a teasing smirk and said, "It's milk and half a bag of sugar. Not that hard to remember."

He giggled her favorite giggle, looking absolutely delighted. Her chest felt warm but slightly hollow, and it took everything in her to not slam him against the wall and snog the breath out of him.

"What time are your other guests going to be arriving?" Rose asked. "And how many people are coming?"

"Anywhere from noon to three," James said, shrugging. "I gave very loose, vague timelines for today. It's going to be a low key gathering. And at last count, there were gonna be eight other people, in addition to you and me."

While they waited for James's guests, they broke out a board game and passed the time playing _Risk_. They finished two rounds before the doorbell rang. Rose cleaned up the game pieces while James greeted his guest and let them inside.

"Rose, this is Jack. Jack, this is Rose."

Rose glanced over and saw a handsome, dark-haired man grinning at her from the entry to the living room. He was quite fit, and Rose took a moment to rake her eyes up and down his toned, muscled body. She flushed when she realized he'd caught her looking and was now giving her a once-over.

"Hi," he said with a wink and flirtatious smirk. He stuck out his hand for her to shake. "Jack Harkness."

"Jack," James said, frowning. "Don't."

"I'm just saying hello," he said innocently.

Rose bit her lip around a chuckle as she walked towards them and grasped Jack's extended hand. His grip was warm and firm, and after he shook her hand, he brought it to his lips for a kiss.

James glared at Jack's back, but he turned and stalked to the front door when the bell rang, heralding a new guest.

Over the next hour and a half, all of James's guests arrived, pulling him in and out of the kitchen to greet them. Rose assured him she didn't mind; after all, it wasn't that hard to boil potatoes. Some of the guests entered the kitchen to offer their help (especially Jack), and Rose made idle conversation with them as she worked on the mashed potatoes.

"I feel bad, leaving you to do the cooking. You're not even the official host," James said when he realized she'd finished the potatoes and had the veggies heating up.

"I told you, it's all right," she said. "Besides, if I didn't want to help, I wouldn't have offered."

James gave her a relieved smile and squeezed her forearm in thanks.

"Though I'm making you carve the turkey. I don't feel like getting my hands that dirty."

James stuck his tongue out at her, but conceded.

The ones who hadn't ventured into the kitchen on their own, James brought to introduce to Rose. She worked hard on remembering everyone's names and how James knew them, but the information faded fairly quickly.

The meal wasn't as awkward as Rose had thought it would be. Despite only having met them a couple hours ago, she managed to make easy conversation with everyone.

Everyone but James, that is. She'd initially planned to sit beside him at the table for dinner, and had put her glass of wine next to his to informally reserve her seat. But when she'd disappeared to the kitchen to help James bring the platters of food out, a blonde woman had sat in her place. She remembered this woman's name: Reinette. She was the French girl who had somehow landed herself in James's intermediate French class.

 _Oh well,_ she thought to herself as she plucked her wine glass from the table.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the woman said, frowning. "I didn't realize someone was sitting here."

"It's all right," Rose said brightly, moving to the opposite end of the table.

Minutes later, everyone was seated and passing around the dishes of food. The conversation was steady as everyone worked through the heaps of food on their plate. Jack had ended up sitting beside Rose, and they talked to each other quite a bit.

Rose couldn't help but notice that Reinette and James were engaged in conversation for the entire meal. He was laughing and beaming at her, angling his body towards her to give her his full attention.

Something hard and uncomfortable dropped into the pit of her stomach as she watched Reinette cover his forearm with her hand, squeezing and rubbing his arm. And James was leaning closer to her touch, which made the feeling worse.

Rose pulled her gaze away from them and tried not to let her hurt show. How had she never seen James interacting with another friend until now? What she'd mistaken for flirting and attraction must have just been his overly-affectionate personality. All the times he'd grabbed her hand or let her take his were normal for him. Nothing special.

She utterly ignored James and his dinner companion for the rest of the meal, choosing instead to throw herself head-first into the conversation around her. Someone had turned the television on and had flipped it to a sports channel, where an American football game was playing.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" Jack asked her, nudging his foot against hers.

"Not really," she admitted. "Er… I know they have to take the ball from one end to the other. And they get different amounts of points depending how they did it. But that's about it."

Jack laughed good-naturedly at her, as did a few of the other people sitting around her, and he began explaining the basic rules to her.

Everybody took their plates to the kitchen after the meal was over and stacked their dishes in the sink, per James's request.

"I'll load the dishwasher later," he'd said.

Stuffed and sleepy, Rose joined a few people on the floor of the living room to continue watching the football game. There were cheers and boos at seemingly every play, and Rose found herself joining in the longer she watched.

Meanwhile, James had settled onto the sofa with Reinette plopped beside him. To make room for another two people on the couch, they were pressed so tightly together that Reinette was nearly in James's lap.

Rose continued to ignore them, just as she ignored the acidic taste in her mouth at the sight of them. Instead, she leaned against Jack and sipped her drink as she continued to watch the game.

Try as she might, Rose couldn't entirely block out James's conversation with Reinette. They talked about politics, both American and European, and the places they'd travelled to. Rose hadn't realized how much of the world James had seen.

"My parents loved to travel," James told Reinette wistfully. "We vacationed every summer in a different country. When I moved with my aunt to America, we would take vacations to various states."

"Why did you move with your aunt?" Reinette asked, furrowing her delicate brow.

"Er… my parents passed away," James said awkwardly.

"Oh!" Reinette clapped her hand to her mouth. "I'm very sorry to hear that."

She wrapped her arms around one of his, hugging it tightly to her breast before she leaned up to brush a kiss to his cheek.

That was when Rose stood up and stalked into the kitchen under the guise of getting more wine.

Her chest ached as she poured herself her third glass of the afternoon and downed half of it in one go.

Seeing James with Reinette made it so heartbreakingly obvious that she was way below his league. He and Reinette were able to talk about travel and politics and other sophisticated things much more eloquently than she ever could.

Somehow she'd managed to convince herself that James had romantic feelings for her when instead he was simply an affectionate person. She should have realized she wasn't anything special to James, and she'd been stupid to think she was.

She'd gotten her hopes up that maybe he might be a little bit in love with her. Now her hopes were crashing down and shattering at her feet, and it _hurt_.

Working on autopilot, Rose set her newly-emptied glass of wine to the side and moved to the pile of dishes in the sink. Trying to convince herself she wasn't avoiding James, she gave everything a cursory rinse then arranged them neatly into the dishwasher.

It didn't matter; he found her five minutes later.

"Rose!" He sounded like he was smiling hugely, and she irrationally wanted to throw a spoon at him. "There you are! Thought I'd lost you."

"Nope," she said, trying to infuse emotion into her flat voice. "Just washing up. Figured I'd get a load started before the food was too caked on."

He sidled up beside her and bumped his hip into hers.

"You're making me feel like a shoddy host," he teased. "First making all the sides, now doing the washing up." Then he went over to the opposite side of the dishwasher to help her finish.

"You can go back to your guests," Rose murmured, carefully arranging the utensils.

"No thanks. I need a break." He paused, then lowered his voice and admitted, "I've only just escaped."

Rose's head snapped up to look at him. He was scrubbing his hand at the back of his neck with a sheepish grimace on his face.

"Escaped?"

He loosed a long breath then said carefully, "Reinette's been… very friendly. She's been hanging off my arm all day. I've barely been able to chat with my other friends. And I've tried to hint to her that I'm not interested, but…" He shrugged and turned to root under his sink for dishwasher detergent.

Rose's heart lifted itself out of her stomach and back into her chest.

"Am I a rubbish host if I hide in here for the rest of the day?" James asked, tossing the detergent pod into the dishwasher.

"Hmmm…" Rose tapped her finger against her chin. "Probably."

James rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"You can sometimes be too friendly for your own good," Rose said.

"How can I politely tell her I'm not interested?" he asked with a sigh. "I thought I'd been obvious."

"As an observer, it didn't look like you were uninterested," Rose supplied.

James's jaw slackened and a look of horror crossed his face. His cheeks went red as he began to stammer, "Wait… but… she… I… Rose!"

"I'm just sayin'," Rose laughed.

"Really?" he squeaked. "'Cos I'm not. Interested, that is. I'm not at all interested in her. Not in the least!"

Rose giggled at him, amused by how flustered he was. But she couldn't help the happiness and relief bubbling up inside of her.

James pouted. "Well what about you and Jack?" he asked petulantly.

Rose stopped laughing. "What d'you mean, me and Jack?"

"You two have been very… cozy today."

"He's a nice guy," she countered, watching James carefully.

"Yeah, he is. I just… I feel like I should warn you. He goes through women very quickly. Men, too, as it were. Just so you know."

James had his hands stuffed into his pockets, but Rose could see they were clenched into tight fists.

"Thanks for the warning, but I'm not interested," she said.

James brightened. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said softly.

He beamed at her, and she couldn't help but return it.

"In that case… I, er, was wondering… Do you… Would you like… I'd like to… Do you wanna maybe…"

"What are you two kids getting up to in here?"

James jumped a little, and he turned to glare at Jack. Rose didn't know whether to be upset at Jack or to kiss him. While he'd been stuttering his way through fragmented sentences, judging by what they'd been discussing, Rose was fairly certain James was trying to ask her out on a date. If he was, she was thrilled, and hated Jack for interrupting. But a small part of her also wanted to flee from the room. There were still three and a half weeks left before she would know for certain whether or not she could stay at the university. With her luck, she'd start dating James only to find out she'd lost her scholarship.

"Oh, nothing. Cleaning up, that's all," Rose said brightly, hating the way James's face fell then shuttered off.

"I saw your pile of board games, and a group of us wants to play something. There's too many of us to play individually, so we're pairing up. Do you two want in?"

"I do," Rose answered.

"Brilliant! I still need a partner," Jack said, waggling his eyebrows.

"I think you'd work well with Reinette," James suggested. "If she still needs a partner."

"I think she was hoping to pair up with you," Jack said pointedly.

"No doubt," James grumbled. But he stepped up beside Rose and rested his hand on her lower back. She nearly rolled her eyes at the possessive motion, but a larger part of her was thrilled. "I'll be Rose's partner."

Jack eyed them both carefully, then winked and left the kitchen. Rose made to follow, but James gently gripped her forearm, stopping her.

"Rose. Before… I wanted to ask…"

"Stop," she interrupted, her heart galloping. "If you're asking what I think you're asking, ask me after finals."

James's brow furrowed, confusion and hurt warring on his face.

"Please. Just wait and ask me after finals." Rose tried to explain with her eyes, because she felt too pathetic to tell him how worried she still was about not being able to stay in school. And she didn't know how to confess that she was already head-over-heels in love with him, and that it would kill her if she got a taste of a relationship with him only to have it yanked away.

To her eternal relief, a kernel of understanding dawned in his eyes, and his gaze softened. He reached out and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"After finals," he agreed quietly.

Then he lifted her hands to his lips, planted a sweet, tender kiss to her knuckles, and guided her to the living room.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Just one more chapter and an epilogue after this.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary:** Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

The chapter we've all been waiting for! Just the epilogue left after this, folks.

* * *

 **Chapter 10:**

"You're so brilliant!"

Rose was still in shock even as James swept her into a crushing hug in the middle of the lecture hall. He'd pinned her arms to her sides, so she couldn't really reciprocate the embrace. But even if she could, her brain was too wrapped up in the memory of the little red _89%—Great improvement! Well done!_ that was scribbled at the top of her exam.

"I'm so proud of you," he crowed into her ear, a little too loudly but she didn't mind.

Still not completely convinced she wasn't dreaming, Rose pulled back from his embrace to glance at her exam again. The same 89% was staring back at her.

"How…?"

"Because you're brilliant," James said with a decisive nod. "You, Rose Tyler, are a genius."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," she said, even as a grin stole across her face. "But I am pretty good."

James rolled his eyes at her and held out his hand for hers.

"This is cause for a celebration. Let me buy you breakfast?"

Rose followed James to the dining hall. When they were settled in one of the few empty tables, James pulled out his iPad and tapped at the screen for a few minutes before his face lit up.

"With this newest exam score, you now only need a fifty-nine percent on your final exam to get a passing grade in the class."

Fifty-nine percent. That was doable, she hoped.

"What's your exam schedule like?" Rose asked. "I've asked my boss to have off until my finals were over, and she graciously agreed. Hopefully that'll make it easier for us to find days to meet up, but I don't want to take away from the time you need to study for your other classes."

"Chem is my first final," James replied.

"Mine too," Rose said.

"The exam is Tuesday morning, so let's meet up both days this weekend? And then we can use Monday to take practice exams."

Rose blinked. "How do you have practice exams?"

"Remember, Professor Young said the final is standardized. That means it's a national exam that the ACS—the American Chemical Society—puts out for colleges and universities across the country. It's done this for decades, so there are loads of past exams and practice exams on the internet."

"Oh. That's helpful."

"Indeed. Almost every science class uses an ACS exam as their final," James said. "Hopefully this will help you get the feel for how the exam will go. It's all multiple-choice, and designed to fit within two hours, so the problems aren't all that complicated."

"Maybe for you, they're not," she muttered.

His eyes widened when he realized how that came out.

"No, no," he said hastily. "I merely meant that they problems are designed to take a couple mathematical calculations, is all."

Rose nodded and continued tucking into her omelet.

oOoOo

During the last week of classes, James and Rose didn't see much of each other. Rose had a final project in lieu of a final exam in two of her classes, and she was swamped with work as she frantically finished everything that was due on the last day of classes.

But finally, she turned in a painting project and final report, leaving her free to meet up with James to study for their chemistry exam.

Finding a place to study was trickier than normal, as the entire student population was on the hunt for a quiet, secluded room. James, however, knew that the science buildings were fairly empty during exam week, and so they took over a small room tucked away in the basement of the physics building.

"I've brought snacks," James proudly proclaimed when he and Rose met up on Saturday morning to begin their first study session.

To call it 'snacks' was an understatement; he'd brought a huge tote bag filled with not only pretzels, crisps, trail mix, and granola bars, but microwaveable meals so that they wouldn't need to abandon the room for a lunch break. He'd also brought a cooler filled with drinks, as well as his electric kettle and all the makings for tea and instant coffee.

"You're such a mother hen," Rose teased, even though she was grateful for all of the food he'd brought.

He stuck his tongue out at her and said, "If you're gonna be rude to me, I'm not gonna share my food."

She rolled her eyes. "My humblest apologies. I am forever in your debt and am grateful for the bounteous meal you have scavenged for us. I grovel at your feet and beg your mercy and pray that you share your wealth of sustenance."

James broke out into peals of giggles that had Rose laughing too. She loved the way her chest warmed at the sight and sound of his happiness.

"I suppose you're forgiven," he said after a minute.

"Brilliant!" Rose immediately reached for a tea bag and began to make them both a cuppa.

They saw very little of the outside world for the next couple of days. Rose had never worked so hard at anything in her life, and by the time Tuesday morning rolled around, she was utterly exhausted but determined to get that fifty-nine percent she needed. She refused to let one stupid class get in the way of the rest of her time at uni, or between her and James.

Their friendship was the most important thing to her, and they were right on the cusp of becoming something more. Ever since Thanksgiving, they'd both been aware of the electricity between them, but, true to his promise, James kept their friendship strictly platonic.

But Rose was impatient to get finals out of the way and hopefully go on a date with James. If he still wanted to.

They sat in their usual seats in the lecture hall as they waited for their professor to arrive with their exams. All around them, students were frantically cramming and flipping hastily through their notes in a last-minute study session.

"How are you feeling?" James asked as he twirled his pencil end over end across the table top.

"Okay," she replied. "I just want this to be over. I never should've taken this class in the first place, but this nightmare is almost done."

James nodded silently but didn't say anything else. He instead faced the front of the room. Before Rose could ask what was wrong, their professor stepped into the lecture hall and began speaking, telling them to put everything away except for a pencil and calculator.

Minutes later, the exam booklet was passed out, and Rose began filling in her student information. When she was finished with that, she waited impatiently for the professor to tell them they could start.

She watched James out of the corner of her eye. He was on his phone, copying down his student ID number. A moment later, he tucked his phone into the front pocket of his jeans and continued playing with his pencil.

Rose reached over and rested her hand on his thigh. He let out a muffled squeak and flinched.

"Good luck, James," she whispered, giving his leg a squeeze. "Thank you so much for everything you've done for me this term. No matter what happens with this exam, meeting you was the best thing to come from this class."

His face softened and a small smile tugged at his lips.

"For me, too," he replied, and he reached down and covered her fingers right as the professor told them to begin.

The exam passed in a blur of words and numbers and bubbling in her answer sheet. She was so focused on taking her test that by the time the professor told them time was up and to turn in their exams, she realized James had already left. With a slight headache building behind her eyes, Rose turned in her exam and walked out into the lobby, where she assumed James would be waiting for her.

He was, and when he saw her, he beamed and held out his hand for hers.

Despite the fact that their chemistry exam was over, she and James continued to meet up for the rest of the week to study for the rest of their classes. While they didn't speak very much, Rose was glad to have his quiet company as she prepared as best she could for her other exams.

The week passed relatively quickly and uneventfully. James's last exam had been Thursday evening, while Rose's wasn't until Saturday. Because there would be nothing for him to do and he would undoubtedly get bored watching her pour over her books, Rose stayed home all of Friday to prepare for her Shakespeare final the following morning.

A few minutes before eight o'clock, Rose stumbled groggily into the classroom along with the rest of her classmates. She wasn't at all nervous for this exam; it was the class she was doing the best in and one she genuinely liked.

But that didn't mean she enjoyed taking the test. It was all essay-writing, and Rose's hand was sore by the time she turned in her test booklet. She flexed it and her shoulders as she walked out of the room, taking care to not let the door slam behind her. She'd made it a step into the hallway when a tall, lean body invaded her personal space.

Before she could reel backward, the familiar scent of soap and laundry detergent pervaded her senses.

"You're done!" James crowed loudly. He then winced, realizing there were still people trying to take an exam. His voice was much more muted when he said, "Congratulations."

"Thanks!"

She skipped up to him and wrapped her arms around one of his, hugging it to her chest.

"So. Are you hungry?" James asked.

"Starved," she said. She hadn't had time to eat breakfast that morning.

"The university is serving free breakfast until noon to anyone still here. Want to go take advantage?"

"Absolutely!"

Arm in arm, they made their way across campus to the dining hall. It was utterly dead inside; there were two other students milling around the food court and three more sitting at their own tables.

James and Rose each grabbed a tray and loaded it with food. Waffles, eggs, potatoes, sausages, fried tomatoes, flaky croissants. Rose wasn't sure whether she'd be able to eat everything, but it all smelled incredible, and her stomach was growling nonstop.

Rose found James at the coffee station, filling up his travel thermos. She opted for tea instead. When they were each satisfied with their platters of food, they walked past the cashier with a friendly smile.

"Got any more finals to take?" she asked.

"Nope," James said, as Rose answered, "Just finished my last one."

"Congrats to you both. Enjoy the break."

Rose followed James to a table by the back wall of windows very near to the table they'd sat at the first time James had treated her to breakfast earlier in the semester.

For a few minutes, silence enveloped them as they wolfed down their breakfast. It was all delicious and sated Rose's hunger quickly.

But even as they both slowed down their eating, James still wasn't saying much. Instead, he was fidgeting with his thermos, flipping the lid on and off repeatedly.

"You all right?" Rose asked.

"Fine," he said a little too quickly. He stopped playing with the lid, as though realizing what he was doing. "Have you been on the grade book portal yet?"

"I took a final at eight," Rose reminded him. "Why?"

"Well…" James's eyes darted back to the table as he murmured, "The chem final is up."

Rose's ears rang and she thought she might throw up everything she just ate.

"Oh," she whispered faintly.

"Do you want to check it?" he asked quietly.

"I dunno…" Rose kneaded the heel of her hand into her forehead. Did she want to know how she did, or did she want to live in blissful ignorance until her final transcript was released? But surely she'd achieved at least the fifty-nine she needed, hadn't she? "Can you look and tell me how I did?"

"I could," he said. "As long as you don't mind me seeing the rest of your grades."

Rose snorted. "You literally have a spreadsheet of all of my grades."

He stuck his tongue out at her. She took her phone out of her pocket and tapped through it to get to her online student portal. She entered her login information and handed the phone to James.

Her heart thudded against her ribs as she watched James flick his finger up the screen. Rose folded her arms on the table and rested her forehead on them.

What was she going to do if she hadn't gotten a high enough grade? What was she going to do if they revoked her scholarship? Could she plead her case to the university? Tell them she'd made a horrible mistake in trying to take chemistry and that they should put her on probation until she could prove she could keep her grades up?

"Rose!" James's excited voice was in her ear and his hands were roughly shaking her. "Rose, look! Look! You did it! Look!"

Rose lifted her head cautiously, not quite believing what he was saying. He thrust the phone under her nose, and she blinked rapidly to try and focus on the blur of black letters on the screen.

 _Final Exam: 72%_.

"You did it!"

Rose's jaw slackened and she grabbed her phone from him.

"Impossible," she muttered, and she refreshed the page—twice, for good measure. But the little 72% was still there.

"That's thirteen whole points above what you needed!" he exclaimed, grinning like a loon at her.

He jumped to his feet, then grabbed her biceps and tugged, urging her to stand too. She followed, feeling weak to her knees, but that didn't matter, because soon she was enveloped in his arms. His comforting scent filled her lungs and she buried her face into his shoulder as he held her fiercely.

"I'm proud of you," he said, squeezing her. "So proud."

"I passed," she rasped, shaking slightly. All that hard work had finally, _finally_ paid off.

"Yes you did! You're brilliant, you are!"

Rose pulled back to look up into his face. It was bright with joy, and her stomach did a little somersault. She would never have been able to do any of this on her own. And through some sheer luck and James's unending patience, kindness, and intelligence, she met all of the requirements to keep her scholarship. She could stay at the university.

She didn't have to leave James, her best friend. She'd never met anyone like him, and nobody had ever made her feel as good about herself as he did. She felt like she was the very best version of herself whenever he was around, and she loved him more than she'd ever loved anyone.

Standing there, with his hands resting at the small of her back, his eyes bright, his mouth curved in a smile, and their bodies invading each other's space, Rose's control snapped. Between her promise to herself—that if she passed, she would try to make something with James work—and her almost certainty that James was interested in a relationship with her, it was inevitable.

Their hips were pressed flush together as their arms remained around each other's waists. As though realizing how intimately they were standing, James's face flamed red and he pulled his hips back a fraction of an inch. But his eyes were dark as they darted from her lips, to her eyes, then back again.

"Rose…" he croaked.

His voice was breathy and made a thrill of heat shoot from her heart into her belly. He licked his lips, making them shine invitingly. Rose sucked in a trembling breath and, with her heart beating through her entire body, she rocked up onto her tiptoes, settled one of her hands around the nape of his neck, and pressed her lips to his.

He let out a muffled sigh as his muscles relaxed and he melted into her arms. He clutched at the fabric of her jumper, pulling her impossibly closer as he angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

Of all the times she'd imagined this—and she'd imagined it embarrassingly frequently—none of it came close to the real thing. His lips were soft, warm, and full against hers, moving in time with her as though they were already familiar with kissing each other.

Their lips danced together, tugging and releasing, chasing and yielding. Nothing had ever felt this good, and Rose never wanted it to stop. Heat sparked down her spine as he let out a helpless whimper when her tongue tentatively probed his bottom lip. She echoed the sound when his fingers tangled into her hair, massaging her scalp as he held her tenderly, reverently.

 _Oh, God, how am I ever going to stop?_

She felt like laughing and sobbing all at once, because this was the most perfect moment in her entire life. The weight of the world flew off her shoulders and it seemed as though it would never settle on her again. Being in his arms was the only place she ever wanted to be and she prayed he felt the same way.

She caressed her hand up his jaw, gliding along the smooth skin before landing in his hair. It was even softer than it looked. She grabbed a handful of it, her nails scraping across his scalp, and he let out a wrenching groan as his entire body shuddered in her arms. Her core ached and throbbed with desire.

 _Oh, God_.

Half a second before she was going to hitch her leg obscenely around his hip, James broke their kiss that was actually probably more of a snog now. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath; little black dots were swirling in her vision, and she wanted nothing more than to wrap him into a tight hug. And possibly another kiss.

He was deliciously rumpled. His hair was sticking out at all angles and a happy, dazed glint had entered his eyes.

Rose licked her swollen lips and breathed, "All right?"

He nodded quickly, and he reached out to cup her cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed across her bottom lip, and she had to restrain herself not to suck the pad of his thumb into her mouth. Instead, she settled for pressing a quick kiss to it before he dropped his hand to his side.

"Yeah," he whispered, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yeah. I just… I wanted… did you… did you want to do that?"

Rose furrowed her brow as her heart sank a little. "What d'you mean?"

His cheeks were bright red and his eyes darted across her face, then to her lips, then to a far-off point behind her shoulder. They traversed this path several times. He looked terrified and helpless, and something in her chest cracked at the sight.

She reached out and took his hand, hoping to offer him some bit of comfort until he could tell her what he was thinking.

"It's just… did you want to kiss me like that? Or were you just happy about your grade?"

Rose frowned at him. Did he seriously not know? He _had_ to know. He had to realize she'd been wanting to kiss him for weeks. That she was irrevocably in love with him. That she wanted to spend the rest of her life kissing him and being with him.

"Both," she said firmly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm overjoyed I passed the class, but I also wanted to kiss you. I've wanted to kiss you for a while now."

His face morphed into an expression of utter delight, and she debated her next words for many long seconds. She was tempted to leave it at that, then return to kissing him in the middle of the dining hall, but she swallowed her nerves and said, "You're my best friend, James. And I know we've only known each other for a few months, but I… I've fallen in love with you."

His jaw slackened in surprise and his hand went limp in hers. Her cheeks burned, but she forced himself to keep his stare as she tried to parse through the emotions flitting on his face while trying not to vomit with nerves.

"You… you love me?" he squeaked.

She nodded, and his face slowly bloomed into the widest, most beautiful smile she'd ever seen on his face. The sight of it sent her blood thrumming as hope swelled though her.

"Oh, Rose. I…I…" He reached forward and cupped her cheeks in his palms. His thumb idly stroked her cheeks as he tilted his head down until his forehead was flush with hers. His breath puffed against her lips, and the closeness of him made her eyes flutter shut. "I… I've fallen in love with you, too."

He shifted and hugged her closer, burying his face into her shoulder. Her heart raced at his words, aching with love for him as she held him just as tightly.

"I'd thought maybe you fancied me," he whispered into her ear. "But I hadn't been sure if you were just a really affection person who hugged and held hands with her friends all the time. And I've tried asking you out on dates, but I would either chicken out or you would stop me. I barely dared to believe… to hope…"

"Believe it, mister," she teased, taking one of her arms from around his waist to poke his belly. He squirmed and giggled, then pulled back to look at her. His fringe had fallen onto his forehead, and she reached up to brush it back. "I wasn't sure if you felt the same way, either. Then I worried that if I said something and you didn't like me like that, it would make studying awkward and uncomfortable. So I'd decided to wait 'til the end of term, just in case you weren't attracted to me, I could run away and avoid you for the rest of my time here."

He rolled his eyes.

"And then I was terrified I wouldn't pass chemistry. I didn't want to fall in love with you only to have to move back to London a month later. It would break my heart."

His face softened, and he leaned down to brush a kiss to her forehead.

"I love you," he murmured. "So much. I don't care if we've only known each other for three months. You're my best mate, and I always want you to be my best mate. Even if you'd had to move home again, I wouldn't have let you go without a fight. Or at least without making sure we would stay in contact."

"Sap," she teased, but she couldn't help the grin that split her face.

He blew a raspberry at her, but then his face went solemn.

"I, er, I should probably tell you. I haven't really, er, done this before," he said in a rush, his face flushed pink.

After her initial confusion faded, a lump settled in her stomach. "Was that your first kiss?"

She was mortified. If she'd known that, she would've made it gentler, sweeter. The kind of first kiss he deserved to have. And she would've asked if it was okay that she kissed him, rather than yanking his face into hers. But for his first time kissing, he was sure good at it…

"No, no, 'course not," he said quickly. "I've had a few girlfriends, and we've kissed. But… but that's it. None of them were ever serious enough that I wanted to do anything more with. Y'know… anything _physical_. Never been in love like this before."

His cheeks had somehow turned redder and he looked uncomfortable and vulnerable.

"I… I'm not really sure how this works," he mumbled, embarrassed. "Because I want everything with you, Rose. Everything. But I don't want to muck anything up."

"It works however we want it to work," she said simply. "I want to do everything with you, too, but I only if you want it and are ready for it. We can go as slow or fast as we're both comfortable with."

His shoulders straightened a bit. "Yeah?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "That's what it means to be in a relationship. We're in this _together_ , James. Together."

He smiled, his body relaxing. "I like the sound of together."

She beamed. "Me too."

"So… d'you think maybe we could get back to the kissing thing?" He towered over her and leaned down far enough that the tip of his nose brushed hers.

"It was rather marvelous, wasn't it?"

"The best kiss I've ever had," James said honestly.

"Me too," Rose admitted.

James's eyes widened, but he looked pleased and slightly smug. Rose rolled her eyes, then pressed herself closer to him until their lips slotted together.

This kiss was gentler than their frenzied first kiss, but the knowledge that he wanted to kiss her—that he _loved_ her!—made shivers rocket down her spine. She trembled in his arms as she looped her hands over his shoulders, scrabbling for any purchase to pull him closer.

He moaned against her mouth as his hands dropped to the small of her back. His fingers clenched and loosened repeatedly into her jumper as they made slow passes up and down her spine. It was as though he didn't know what to do with his hands. For that matter, neither did she. They ran through his hair, then went to his jaw, then cupped the back of his neck. Anything to keep him close. Anything to keep him kissing her.

His lips moved gracefully with hers. The only evidence that they were new kissing partners was the occasional bump of their noses and missteps when they each went to adjust the angle of the kiss. But it was still perfect, and they each automatically corrected any errors they made.

Rose's mind was empty of anything except the man in her arms. Her body fizzed with pleasure and endorphins, leaving little room for anything else except for the unending mantra of _I love you, I love you, I love you_ looping through her head.

The words were bursting to escape her mental filter, and she eased them out of the kiss. James's breath came in choppy pants against her lips; hers wasn't much better. Her lips felt deliciously swollen, and she licked them, still able to taste him on her tongue.

"I love you," she said softly, reaching out to rest her palm on his chest. His heart thudded steadily beneath her palm. "I love you, James."

His breath caught in his throat and he lifted his hand to cover hers. He wrapped his long fingers around hers and squeezed them, then brought her hand to his lips to place a delicate kiss to each knuckle.

"I love you, too," he croaked. "I've never felt this way about anyone."

"Neither have I," she admitted.

Something flashed behind his eyes. "Not… not even Jimmy?"

Rose shook her head. "No. I thought I loved him. And maybe I did, as much as my teenaged self could. But you… my God, James. It's like my body is way too small to contain this. I'm overwhelmed in the best way possible."

"That's how I feel." He ran another line of kisses along the ridge of her knuckles. "I've felt like this for so long. I've been terrified you might not feel the same."

Rose couldn't help but chuckle. "I was worried about the same thing." Then her brain caught up with what he said. "When did you realize you were in love with me?"

James tilted his head to the side. As he thought, his tongue pressed to the backs of his teeth.

"I think I'd known for a while," he said at last. "Or I suspected. I don't entirely know when the transition from 'friend' to 'more' happened officially; I just know that I loved our study dates and mate dates and wished they were real dates.

"But the point of no return for me was the night you stayed with me on the anniversary of my parents' death. You stayed with me even though I was miserable company. And you spent the night. When I woke up and saw you asleep on the recliner… I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I wanted to wake up every day and see you first thing."

She smiled softly at him.

"Your turn," he said, pinching her waist lightly. "When did you fall in love with me? It was immediate, wasn't it? You just couldn't resist this foxy body and suave, sexy charm, eh?"

He winked roguishly, and Rose burst out laughing. He pouted, but the effect was ruined with the smile creeping across his face.

"After our trip to Philly," she said when her giggles subsided. "I was looking through the photos we took together and I realized that was the most fun I'd had out with someone in a very long time. And I wanted to spend a lot more time with you outside of studying.

"And then on election night, when I told you about Jimmy, you didn't judge me for anything." His brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to argue. But she placed her finger over his lips. "You'd be surprised how many people wanted to give me a lecture about how I should've left sooner than I did. But you… you just listened. And you gave me a hug and didn't make me feel stupid for anything that happened."

"I think you ought to rethink your friend choices, if you fell in love with me for common decency," James huffed, talking through her finger. "Er. Not to be rude or anything."

"Though that is a teensy bit rude," she teased.

He stuck his tongue out at her, then licked her finger. She pulled it back with a shriek, wiping the wetness off on her jeans.

"You're disgusting!" But she was laughing, which softened the reprimand.

After a beat of silence, James asked, "So… since it's the end of finals and we've cleared the air about our feelings, could I take you out somewhere? A date-date. No more mate-dates. Not that you're not my mate. You're my best mate. But you're more than just my mate now and…"

Rose's chest warmed with affection for the man babbling in front of her. She rocked onto her tiptoes and brushed a kiss to his cheek.

"A date-date would be wonderful," she said, then she pressed her lips to his once more.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Just the epilogue after this.


	11. Epilogue

**Summary:** Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

That's all she wrote, folks! I hope you've enjoyed this story. Thanks for coming on this wild ride with me.

* * *

 **Epilogue:**

 _Two Years Later_

"Jeans… jumpers… socks…" James rooted through his suitcase one final time, sifting through the clothes to make sure he had everything he would need for a four-day trip.

"You've got the condoms in your bag, yeah?"

He spun at Rose's voice and saw her leaning casually against door frame of their bedroom. Her thick winter coat was draped across her arm.

"Yep," he answered. "Tucked safe and sound under my pants. A brand-new box. Should last the weekend."

"If we go through that entire box in four days, I'm not gonna be able to walk," Rose laughed.

He waggled his eyes at her; she shook her head at him. He turned back to his suitcase and zipped it shut.

"Is yours already in the car?" he asked, lifting his luggage from the bed.

"Yep."

James followed Rose down the hall to where his Aunt Sarah was standing by the front door.

"Thanks for doing this," he told her.

"Of course," she said. "Now go. Have fun. I'll see you two next week."

"Kicking me out of my own house?" James raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, shut up. You'll want to get on the road to miss the afternoon traffic. Don't you worry about a thing. Just have fun." She reached out to him, and he dutifully stepped into her arms to accept her embrace. "Good luck," she whispered in his ear, giving him a squeeze that didn't at all settle the butterflies that were suddenly churning in his stomach. Then she pulled back and kissed his cheek. "Go, go. Drive safely. Let me know when you get there."

"Thanks again for taking care of the cats," Rose said, skipping up to Sarah for a goodbye hug.

"It's no trouble at all," she said, kissing Rose's cheek.

When Rose pulled back from his aunt, James rested his hand on her lower back. She leaned into his touch and beamed up at him with a smile that inflated his heart a few sizes.

"Ready to go?" he murmured, bending down to press his lips to the top of her head.

"Yep! Bye Aunt Sarah. Bye babies," she cooed to the line of four cats pacing in the foyer. "Bye Gollum, wherever the hell you are."

Sarah had driven in from Michigan earlier in the week along with her two cats in order to take care of their three cats while James and Rose went up to Cherry Springs State Park. It was one of the best places in the country to stargaze, and it was only a few hours upstate.

James was excited to spend a few days alone in the middle of nowhere with Rose so they could both decompress after this latest round of final exams. For James, since he was graduating early, it was his very last round of exams. This trip was a way for him and Rose to celebrate for a few days before making it back to town in time for his graduation ceremony.

And, if all went well, he and Rose would be celebrating something else, too.

James carried his suitcase to the car, tucked it into the back next to Rose's, then settled into the driver's seat for the next few hours. He kept his hand twined with Rose's for most of the drive, and they passed the time listening to an audio book that neither of them was really invested in.

Four hours later, only narrowly missing rush hour traffic, he pulled into the parking lot of the guest services building.

"I'll be right back," he said. He saw she was unbuckling her seat belt. "You don't need to come in with me."

"I need to stretch out my legs. My bum went numb from sitting for so long."

"Need me to rub it?" he asked, winking.

She snorted and smacked his chest lightly before she stood up out of the car.

It was a simple matter of signing a few forms then receiving the key to their cabin rental. When he returned to the car, he saw Rose bent over touching her toes. He was given a glorious view of her arse, and he let out a low, appreciative whistle.

She snapped up and whirled around, fire simmering in her eyes. It was extinguished when she realized who was ogling her.

"Just me," he said, holding his hands up. "I'm sorry if I startled you."

"Thought you might've been some wanker catcalling."

"Nope. Only your wanker."

Rose rolled her eyes fondly, then they both reluctantly got back into the car so James could drive them to their cabin. It was a small rental unit, only two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen, but it would suit their needs for the next several days.

They passed the evening uneventfully, walking arm in arm around the campground before retreating back to their cabin to make dinner with the food they'd packed. When the sun had set, they bundled up against the cool December air and went outside to sit on the porch swing. The air wasn't unbearably bitter, but it did have a crisp sting to it that was made manageable with hats and gloves and, of course, a good cuddle.

James wrapped an arm around Rose and tucked her in to his side, enjoying the feel of her next to him. She turned her body into his, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his middle.

He rocked the swing slowly, using only the tips of his toes and heels. The motion was soothing, and managed to calm his sudden rush of nerves. The small velvet box that contained a small platinum ring seemed to weigh a ton in his coat pocket, where it had been resting all day.

The elation he'd felt when buying it hadn't gone away, but nerves had cropped up too. He was fairly certain Rose would say yes, so he didn't know why he was so anxious. Nevertheless, he was. And what was even more terrifying was finding a way to ask her. Surely he couldn't simply blurt out, "Hey, so I was thinking… d'you want to get married?"

Soft, warm lips grazed his jaw. He hummed and looked down.

"Penny for 'em," Rose said gently, giving his waist a small squeeze.

"Oh, just thinking."

"Obviously," she said, sticking her tongue out as she grinned.

He rolled his eyes, then rested his cheek on top of her plum-colored beanie.

"I was just thinking… tomorrow's one of my favorite days of the year."

"Mmm," she agreed, and he could hear the impish grin when she said, "It's the day we went from study buddies to fuck buddies."

He choked on a laugh.

That wasn't quite true. Tomorrow was the anniversary of their first kiss, and the day they entered into their relationship. Becoming Rose's boyfriend had been the best thing to ever happen to him. If he'd thought their first kiss had been brilliant—and oh, it had been _brilliant_ —it was nothing compared to the rest of their courtship.

If he thought he had loved her when he'd first confessed his feelings to her, that was a mere drop in the ocean to what was in his heart now. He and Rose had grown even closer over the last two years as they fumbled their way through dating. The first few months had passed by like a dream as they spent nearly every waking (and sleeping) moment together. They'd gone on dates, told each other every little trivial fact about their lives, and started exploring a physical relationship.

Despite his inexperience, he'd caught on quickly and, to his unending relief, had not made a complete fool of himself the first time he and Rose had made love. It was slow and tender, full of laughing and teasing, and so perfectly _them_. Their ardor and desire hadn't cooled a degree in the past year and a half; he desired Rose as much as he did their first night together.

Even when the high of a new relationship had worn off, the magic was still there. Even if some days were harder than others.

James's stomach hurt when he remembered the strained month when Rose had hidden the fact that she'd been in communication with her ex-boyfriend, Jimmy. As it turned out, she had only been talking to him to repeatedly let him know that she was never coming home and that she wanted nothing to do with him. But James hadn't known that, and he'd thrown some awful accusations at her, which led her to throwing some back at him. After spending two days apart, they came together and cleared the air, shedding many tears interspersed with apologies and affirmations of their never-ending love for each other.

That had happened six months in to their relationship and was by far their worst argument to date. But they'd made it through together and came out stronger on the other side.

Since then, the only hiccup they'd come across had arisen earlier in the month when James began receiving acceptance letters from the various graduate programs he'd applied to. Now that he had a stack of acceptance letters to sift through, it was becoming all too real that, come next August, he would be moving away from Rose for at least a year.

However, his wonderful, brilliant, compassionate Rose had reassured him that there was not a distance long enough that would ever make her stop loving him. The confidence and vehemence in her declaration had made him fall in love with her all over again. And, incidentally, had been the catalyst he'd needed to pull the trigger on the engagement ring he'd had his eye on for months.

"Hey." James was abruptly jarred back to the present when Rose knocked her elbow into his ribs. "I'm just teasing."

"No, I know," he answered quickly. "I guess I've got a lot on my mind."

And here he was, back to wondering how the hell he was supposed to ask the love of his life to become his wife.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Rose offered. "Are you worried about grad school? Because you know that we'll make it work, no matter where you decide to go. We'll always be all right, you and me."

He exhaled, his breath clouding in front of him, and he kissed the top of her head. "I know."

"Always remember that I love you more than anything, James," she said quietly, but the weight of her words resounded into his very soul. "I love you more now than I did two years ago. I fall in love with you a little more every day we spend together."

"So you didn't fall in love with me during that week I spent at a conference in California?"

She smacked his chest. "You arse."

He giggled, and suddenly he didn't feel nearly as terrified anymore. Leave it to Rose to manage to calm him down when she didn't even realize he was panicking.

They lapsed back into a comfortable silence, rocking together on the porch, until a few minutes later, Rose squealed. "Ooh, shooting star!"

James looked up and scanned the skies in the general vicinity she was pointing to. He finally saw the fading streak of light disappear into the darkness. He looked down at her and saw she had her eyes closed in concentration.

A moment later, they popped open.

"Did you make a wish?" she asked, snuggling back into his side. Even though he hadn't, he nodded. "What'd you wish for? Unless you're worried it won't come true."

His mouth went a little dry as a knot clenched in his belly. This had been the opening he'd been praying for all night.

He swallowed, buying himself time to figure out what, exactly, he wanted to say to her.

"I wished for a hundred more years like the last two we've had," he whispered into her ear, slowly worming the hand not holding her into his coat pocket. "I wished I would always fall asleep and wake up beside you." He managed to one-handedly remove his glove inside his pocket, then grabbed the velvet box with trembling fingers. "I wished to love you and be loved by you forever." He took the box out of his hand, flipped it open, and held it out in front of Rose. She gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. "But more than anything… I wished to become your husband, and that you'd become my wife."

James pressed a hard kiss to the side of her head, then let go of her so he could slide off the swing and kneel before her. Tears glistened in her eyes, lining them with silver as he looked up at her, trying to slow his heartbeat. It was thudding in his ears, making him a little dizzy.

Rose was staring at the sapphire and diamond ring nestled into the silk padding of the box. Her gaze kept darting between his face and the ring and back again.

"I don't think you can have that many wishes on one shooting star," she said faintly, but she was wearing that teasing grin he loved so much.

"Well, I figure we'd see more than one this weekend," he drawled, trying to not panic that she hadn't yet given him an answer. "I'll cash them in later. So what'd'you say, Rose Tyler? Will you do me the extraordinary honor of marrying me?"

A little sob bubbled up her throat, and suddenly she was in his arms. She'd launched herself off the swing to crash into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she hugged him hard enough to almost be uncomfortable. "Yes! Yes, yes, _yes_!"

He exhaled a shuddering breath, and then he was hugging her as tightly as she was hugging him. He buried his face into her neck, his eyes prickling with emotion. Love, relief, more love, and a pure, unending joy.

Rose pulled back first, her eyes red and puffy and her cheeks wet with tears. It made him feel better about the moisture he could feel burning behind his eyes. She sniffled, then broke into tiny, beaming giggles, and he couldn't help but echo the sound.

They were soon laughing somewhat hysterically on the front porch of a rural, northern Pennsylvanian cabin in the middle of the night as a cold December wind picked up around them. But James didn't feel the chill, not when he was the happiest, luckiest person on Earth.

"I love you," he said, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face where it got caught at the corner of her mouth. "So much, Rose."

"I love you, too," she replied. She ripped off her gloves and shoved them into the pockets of her jacket, then wiggled the fingers of her left hand. "Put it on me?"

He did. The fit was perfect, and Rose cooed in admiration at the beautiful ring adorning her finger.

"This is so perfect," she sighed. "How did you know that this is exactly what I would love?"

"I creeped on your Pinterest account," he admitted sheepishly.

Rose burst out laughing, but she continued holding her hand out in front of her, admiring the way the porch light shimmered off the gemstones.

"I love it," she said, turning her head to look at him. "I _love_ it."

"I'm glad." He leaned forward to brush a kiss to her cheek.

His lips glided down her jaw before skating over to cover hers. She parted her lips for him automatically and tilted her head to the side to free up their noses. He sighed against her mouth and wrapped one arm around her shoulders as his other went to her hair. His fingers met with her hat instead, making Rose grin.

He yanked her hat off and dropped it to the side so he could twine his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. She groaned when he scraped his fingernails across her scalp.

"I love you," he murmured between frantic kisses. "I love you. I love you. I love you."

"Love you, too," she panted when he pulled her head back gently to give attention to her neck. Her hands went to his hair—he'd somehow lost his hat, too—keeping him where he was as he bit and licked and sucked at her neck. "Forever."

"Forever," he agreed, latching his mouth to the corner of her neck and shoulder.

She shuddered in his arms, but he couldn't tell if it was from arousal or the cold. A steady breeze had picked up and was biting through their clothes.

"Want to go inside?" he mumbled into her skin.

"Yes please," Rose gasped, arching into his touch and gripping his hair tighter when he nipped her again.

James chuckled, then planted a parting kiss to the red mark he'd been making on her neck. After pushing himself to his feet, he reached down and helped Rose stand, then he guided her inside the bright, warm cabin.

 _The End_

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I hope you've had as much fun reading this story as I've had writing it. I would love to hear from you one last time to know what you thought. And if you've been lurking this whole time or binged this in one sitting, I'd love to hear from you, too :)


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